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Enoch  Willoughby 


Enoch  Willoughby 


A  Novel 


By 

James  A.   Wickersham 


New  York 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
1900 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


.URL 


Co 

MY   FATHER 
IN  LOVING  REMEMBRANCE 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  WILLOUGHBYS         ....      1 

II.  THE  O'MARAS 12 

III.  PROSPERITY 19 

IV.  THE  CLOSED  BOOK          .         .        .         .25 
V.  THE  VISION 37 

VI.   A  FOLLOWER  OF  A  FOLLOWER       .        .    49 

VII.   IN  THE  MEETING-HOUSE        .        .        .58 

VIII.    "WILLIAM  OLNEY"       .        .  .66 

IX.  THE  VISIT  HOME 73 

X.  THE  WOMAN  PREACHER  .  .  .78 

XI.  THE  PRICE  VISIT   .  96 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XII.   FACING  IT  OUT     .  .  113 

XIII.  PEACE    TO    OLD    LADY    MARGARET'S 

ASHES  ! 136 

XIV.  ENOCH  TALKS  WITH  WILLIAM  PRICE  .  152 
XV.   LYDDIE  DECEIVES  HERSELF         .        .  170 

XVI.   THE  NEW  SECT 177 

XVII.   RELIGION  HELPING  LOYE     .        .        .190 
XVIII.    WILLIAM  PRICE'S  HAND       .  .  205 

XIX.   TIME  AND  AFFECTION  AGAINST  REA 
SON  218 

XX.   THE  BETROTHAL  .  .  231 

XXI.   DEVELOPMENTS 251 

XXII.   THE  VISIT  FROM  LITTLE  JAMES  .        .  263 

XXIII.  A  QUESTION  OF  CONSCIENCE         .        .  273 

XXIV.  SOME  SEPARATIONS  .  286 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXV.  THE  "RESERVE"      .         .         .  .306 

XXVI.  A  DAY  ON  BIG  STRANGER        .  .  318 

XXVII.  THE  INCIDENT  OP  THE  CHILD  .  .  330 

XXVIII.  THE  MIRACLE 338 

XXIX.  CONCLUSION  .  353 


ENOCH  WILLOUGHBY 


THE  WELLOUGHBYS 

You  probably  would  not  find  one  of  the  Wil- 
loughbys  who  did  not  have  something  peculiar 
about  him.  This  peculiarity  used  to  be  spoken 
of  as  "queer;"  and  the  "Willoughby  'queer,'" 
in  all  branches  of  the  family,  was  a  term  in 
common  use.  And  yet  there  was  no  well- 
defined  quality  meant  by  it.  Sometimes  it 
referred  merely  to  outward  peculiarities,  a 
manner  of  expression ;  a  tone  of  voice ;  a  style 
of  living  or  dress  or  action ;  but  however  in 
definite  it  might  be,  whether  tangible  or  intangi 
ble,  palpable  or  impalpable,  the  quality  was 
sure  to  be  found  in  every  Willoughby ;  and  if 
you  knew  how,  you  could  search  it  out  and 
describe  it. 

It  is  not  quite  true  that  it  was  found  in  every 
Willoughby  either,  for  there  was  one  branch  of 
the  family  that  had,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
assumed  the  name  when  they  had  no  right  to  it ; 
and,  being  rather  prolific,  this  branch  finally 

1 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

came  to  have  an  influence  in  determining  the 
family  character,  but  of  course  not  its  true 
character.  These  were  false  Willoughbys,  and 
not  at  all  to  be  reckoned  in  with  the  rest.  If 
any  one  should  ever  run  across  a  Willoughby, 
then,  who  has  not  the  characteristic  of  queer- 
ness,  he  may  set  him  down  at  once  as  one  of 
those  spurious  Willoughbys. 

I  wish  it  were  possible  to  write  down  all  the 
instances  of  this  queerness  that  could  bo  found. 
They  would  certainly  be  interesting ;  but  such 
a  record  would  be  altogether  too  far-reaching. 
There  was  David  Willoughby,  the  surveyor  and 
mathematician,  who  had  that  peculiar  drawl  in 
his  voice,  and  who  always  managed  to  conceal 
under  it  a  very  dry  wit ;  but  he  was  an  unbe 
liever  and  an  atheist,  and  no  one  would  be  like 
ly  to  care  much  about  him. 

Then  there  was  Thomas  Willoughby,  the 
artist,  who  lived  apart  from  his  wife  in  his  old 
age,  and  was  a  kind  of  atheistical  spiritualist,  if 
such  a  combination  is  possible ;  a  man  a  little 
cynical  in  expression,  wTith  a  fine  feeling  for 
color,  who  painted  very  beautiful  portraits  in 
oil;  one  in  particular  of  an  old  Quaker  lady, 
probably  his  mother — I  am  not  sure ;  at  any  rate 
it  was  much  admired.  Thomas  used  to  believe 
in  the  presence  of  spirits,  and  generally  kept 
two  revolvers  in  his  bed,  most  likely  to  keep  the 
spirits  away,  for  he  had  no  money  to  lose  and 
2 


THE   WILLOUGHBYS 

could  not  have  been  afraid  of  earthly  robbers. 
He  was  a  very  singular  Willoughby;  learned, 
atheistical,  solitary.  One  could  write  a  whole 
story  about  him  alone,  but  we  shall  have  nothing 
more  to  say  of  him.  He  came  of  a  very  different 
branch  from  the  Enoch  Willoughbys  whom  we 
have  to  consider.  The  State  school  superin 
tendent,  James  "Willoughby,  was  a  cousin  of  his. 

Thomas  had  a  wealthy  sister,  who  remained 
all  her  life  unmarried,  and  devoted  her  wealth 
and  services  to  spiritualism.  I  believe  she 
founded  something  like  an  asylum  for  impecun 
ious  and  superannuated  spiritualists.  She  had  a 
notion  that  they  ought  not  to  have  any  church, 
and  so  would  not  found  or  endow  one.  She 
thought  if  they  had  formed  themselves  into 
churches  immediately  a  creed  would  be  formu 
lated,  the  spirit  would  then  begin  to  die  out, 
and  pretty  soon  you  would  have  nothing. 

I  do  not  believe  you  could  find  one  of  this 
family  who  had  not  some  opinion  or  other  about 
religion.  There  were  a  good  many  atheists, 
and  unbelievers  of  various  kinds,  but  an  equally 
great  number  of  religious  enthusiasts,  reformers, 
and  so  on.  A  genuine  man  of  the  world,  simple, 
plain,  with  no  opinion  on  anything  but  business, 
or  perhaps  business  and  politics,  you  would 
hardly  find  among  them.  The  nearest  ap 
proach  to  it  was,  most  likely,  old  Enoch  Wil 
loughby  of  Ohio. 

3 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

Before  going  on  to  speak  of  him,  it  ought  to 
be  stated  here  that  we  never  knew  a  Willoughby 
who  was  a  tramp  or  a  beggar,  nor  did  we  ever 
know  of  one  who  became  really  rich.  There 
was  one  who  was  rich,  it  is  true  :  I  can  not  say 
just  how  many  millions  he  owned,  but  he  was  a 
millionnaire,  and,  moreover,  had  no  great  pecu 
liarities.  In  a  word,  it  is  easy  to  see  he  was  one 
of  those  spurious  Willoughbys  and  so  does  not 
count.  The  whole  family  always  kept  along  that 
line  of  respectable  mediocrity  in  wealth  which  is 
said  to  be  conducive  to  the  greatest  happiness. 
As  a  rule  they  knew  how  to  furnish  labor  for 
themselves,  to  economize,  and  live  within  their 
means ;  and  whether  you  found  them  in  Penn 
sylvania,  Ohio,  Indiana,  or  even  Iowa  or  Kan 
sas,  you  would  be  pretty  sure  to  find  them  of 
the  respectable,  well-to-do  sort. 

Old  Enoch  Willoughby  was  a  Quaker,  as  all 
the  Willoughbys  had  been  originally,  and  of 
the  orthodox  variety ;  though  he  insisted  on 
remaining  on  good  terms  with  the  Hixites  all 
his  life,  consistently  with  his  doctrine  of  peace 
making,  which  he  professed  and  believed  in 
more  perhaps  than  in  any  religion  or  other 
doctrine  under  the  sun.  He  was  a  tall,  slender 
man,  over  six  feet  in  height,  and  away  back  of 
our  story,  for  he  is  only  the  father,  or  maybe 
the  grandfather,  of  the  particular  Willoughbys  of 
this  history. 


THE   WILLOUGHBYS 

His  wife,  Margaret,  was  large,  and  ruddy- 
faced,  vigorous,  and  sturdy ;  and  if,  at  this  time, 
there  had  been  any  tendency  in  the  original 
stock  of  queerness  to  degenerate  and  die  out, 
she  would  have  reinoculated  it,  surely ;  for  she 
was  the  woman  who  had  that  water- witching 
power  which  is,  and  was  with  her,  a  real  power. 
She  was  the  woman  they  used  to  blindfold,  and 
lead  across  a  covered  ditch,  with  the  forked 
willow  twig  in  her  hands;  and  she  would  tell 
where  the  water  was  every  time ;  but  that  was 
only  a  small  part  of  her  peculiarities.  She  was 
strong  in  more  ways  than  one.  She  was  known 
all  over  the  country  for  her  services  in  sickness ; 
and  when  in  her  prime  could  go  out  to  the 
barn  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  saddle  a  colt  at 
the  call  of  some  one  in  distress,  and  ride  ten  or 
a  dozen  miles  to  wait  on  a  sick  person.  She 
was  not  afraid  of  anything  along  the  way,  not 
even  of  the  Gurneyville  graveyard ;  for  she  had 
enough  belief  in  the  existence  of  an  invisible 
world,  and  confidence  in  her  acquaintance  with 
its  character,  to  think  she  could  have  gotten 
along  with  its  inhabitants  in  the  dark  as  well 
as  was  necessary. 

Margaret  Willoughby  was  a  rare  woman,  but 
she  had  her  faults  along  with  the  rest  of  us. 
She  could  scold  dreadfully  at  times,  and  if  old 
Enoch  Willoughby  had  been  of  a  mind  to  pay 
any  attention  to  her  then  she  might  have  made 

5 


bis  life  miserable ;  but  lie  had  a  happy  faculty 
of  living  in  an  independent  way  to  himself,  or 
wrapped  up  in  his  own  thoughts  and  ideas,  so 
that  her  fretfuluess  did  not  greatly  disturb  the 
even  tenor  of  his  way. 

When  Enoch  P.  Willoughby— the  P.  was 
simply  put  in  to  distinguish  the  young  man 
from  his  father,  as  if  it  took  the  place  of  a  Jr. 
attached  to  the  name — brought  his  young  wife 
to  live  at  his  father's,  the  grandfather — that  is, 
Enoch  Willoughby,  Sr. — attempted  to  forestall 
some  anticipated  trouble,  and  took  the  young 
woman,  who  was  greatly  pleased  with  her  father- 
in-law,  aside,  and  said  to  her  : 

"  Now,  Hannah,  if  thee  will  not  pay  too  much 
attention  to  what  mother  says,  we  shall  get 
along  peacefully,  and  have  a  little  heaven  upon 
earth ;  but  if  thee  does  pay  attention  to  what 
she  says,  why,  we  shall  have  a  little  of  the 
other  place  here,  I'm  afraid." 

Now,  there  were  some  eight  or  ten  children 
of  this  family.  Enoch  P.,  whom  we  shall  call 
simply  Enoch,  was  the  youngest ;  and  as  he  had 
not  very  much  to  do  with,  it  seemed  in  every 
way  best  that  he  and  Hannah  O'Mara  should 
live  at  his  father's. 

This  arrangement,  like  so  many  other  similar 

ones  before  it,  did  not  turn  out  well ;  and  after 

a  few  years,  young  Enoch  and  his  wife  migrated, 

as  so  many  hundreds  of  others  did,  from  Ohio 

6 


THE   WILLOUGHBYS 

to  Indiana,  then  to  Iowa  and  Minnesota,  and 
from  there,  finding  the  winters  too  cold,  south, 
through  Iowa  and  Nebraska,  to  Kansas,  where 
they  finally  settled  on  the  Reserve,  as  we  shall 
learn.  This  must  have  taken  in  all  about  six 
teen  or  seventeen  years,  for  their  oldest  boy, 
James,  had  that  age  when  they  came  to  the 
Reserve,  and  had  been  born  in  the  old  home  in 
Ohio. 

The  brothers  and  sisters  of  Enoch  Willoughby 
had  settled  in  various  places.  One  had  become 
a  physician  in  eastern  Indiana.  Two  others 
had  gone  farther  West.  One  of  these  settled  in 
Iowa,  where  he  came  nearest  of  all  the  younger 
generations  to  becoming  a  rich  man;  he  also 
became  one  of  the  most  peculiar,  but  peculiar 
in  those  little,  outward  things — actions,  style  of 
dress,  style  of  house,  and  so  on — that  make 
only  eccentricities,  and  do  not  bear  very  com 
plete  description.  Two  sisters  remained  in 
Ohio  ;  but  one  of  them  died  early  in  life  by 
some  accident,  and  left  two  children,  who,  of 
course,  did  not  bear  the  family  name,  but  did 
bring  forth  the  fruit  of  the  family,  for  they  were 
of  the  same  quality  of  queerness. 

The  oldest  sister  had  fewest  of  the  family 
characteristics,  for  there  were  no  special  pecu 
liarities  related  of  her.  She  was  more  like  old 
Enoch  Willoughby,  her  father,  who  had  had 
that  peace-making,  quiet  disposition.  She  was 

7 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

a  beautiful  Quaker  lady  in  her  old  age ;  a  good 
model  for  that  portrait  which  Thomas  Wil- 
loughby,  of  the  other  family,  had  painted.  In 
fact,  she  was  the  only  one  who  had  a  good 
enough  temper  to  put  up  with  the  irascibility 
of  old  Margaret  Willoughby  in  her  last  years, 
and  to  her  fell  the  task  of  taking  care  of  the  old 
lady. 

All  the  other  children  were  so  glad  of  the  op 
portunity  of  getting  rid  of  this  task  that  they 
renounced  willingly  their  right  to  any  inheri 
tance  in  the  estate  of  Enoch  Willoughby,  Sr., 
gave  quit-claims,  and  turned  it  all  over  to  Annie 
for  taking  care  of  their  mother. 

Strong  characters  are  almost  always  the  worst 
in  old  age,  and  grandmother  Willoughby  was 
really  pretty  bad.  There  was  nothing  to  suit 
her.  If  she  had  had  ten  willing  slaves  at  her 
constant  command,  she  could  have  kept  them  all 
busy  attending  to  her  wants,  and  yet  Aunt  Annie 
managed,  sweetly  and  gently,  but  forcibly,  to 
take  care  of  her  to  the  satisfaction  of  her 
brothers  and  sisters.  It  may  be  she  was  thus 
kept  too  busy  to  develop  the  proper  amount  of 
peculiarity  in  herself.  She  never  seemed  to  me 
to  be  a  genuine  Willoughby ;  but  then,  I  did 
not  know  her  very  well. 

The  other  sister — for  there  were  three  of  the 
sisters — went  West  too,  and  pursued  more  nearly 
the  course  of  her  younger  brother,  Enoch,  than 
8 


THE  WILLOUGHBYS 

any  of  the  rest  did.  She  was  the  most  spiritu 
ally  minded  of  them  all.  She  used  to  speak  in 
the  Quaker  meeting,  and  it  was  thought  for  a 
time  she  would  become  a  Quaker  preacher.  But 
finally  she  found  in  herself  the  same  magic  pow 
er,  if  one  can  call  it  so,  that  her  mother,  Marga 
ret,  possessed,  only  to  a  still  greater  degree.  She 
had  a  wonderful  personal  magnetism,  and  could 
find  water  by  water- witching  with  willow  twigs  ; 
and  she  had  the  gift  of  magnetic  healing  also. 

She  finally  became  a  full-blooded  spiritualist, 
but  of  the  Biblical,  Quaker  variety.  She  left 
the  church  in  her  old  age  after  a  long  trial  and 
conviction  for  heresy,  but  left  it  entirely  without 
resentment.  She  was  a  good  woman  always ; 
with  a  sweet  voice,  and  a  spirituality  that 
touched  the  soul  only,  and  never  ran  away  into 
trances  or  mediumship  or  materialization  or 
anything  of  that  kind ;  the  development  of  her 
subconsciousness  was  very  great,  and  she  lived 
in  a  Biblical  world  of  dreams  and  visions  and 
their  interpretation  that  was  rather  beautiful 
than  anything  else.  She  brought  up  a  large 
family  too,  and  was  loved  by  her  husband  and 
all  her  children,  and  was  independent  enough  to 
live  a  happy,  religious  life,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  she  had  been  disowned  by  the  church. 
She  always  remained  the  dearest  recollection  of 
young  Enoch  Willoughby.  He  always  spoke 
of  his  sister  Sarah  a  little  as  one  would  speak 

9 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

of  the  New  Jerusalem.  There  was  for  him 
something  heavenly  about  her ;  and  perhaps  no 
incident  in  his  life  had  made  a  stronger  impres 
sion  upon  him  than  one  visit  with  her.  It  was 
then  that  he  was  cured  by  her  of  that  pain  in 
his  breast  without  his  even  speaking  to  her  at 
all  of  the  pain.  She  came  up  to  him,  laid  her 
hand  on  his  breast,  and  described  the  pain  ho 
felt  there  ;  and  it  ceased  before  he  had  even 
spoken  to  her. 

These  two  always  felt  they  would  have  liked 
to  live  near  one  another,  and  yet  they  never 
saw  each  other  after  those  early  days  in  Ohio 
but  that  time  when  Sarah  cured  Enoch  of  the 
pain  in  the  breast. 

Now,  I  want  to  be  sure,  before  coming  on 
down  to  describe  Enoch  "Willoughby  himself, 
that  I  have  told  all  that  is  necessary  about  the 
rest  of  the  family. 

There  was  still  another  brother,  James,  who 
remained  in  Ohio,  and  also  another  brother, 
John,  who  went  West  with  Enoch.  John  Wil- 
loughby,  too,  will  probably  appear  again  in  this 
history ;  but  outside  of  these,  I  think  we  have 
them  all.  They  were  all  inclined  to  be  high- 
minded.  As  a  rule  they  were  not  politicians  or 
seekers  after  offices.  Occasionally  school  teach 
ers  would  crop  out  among  them,  but  generally 
they  remained  always  private  citizens,  such  as  I 
have  described  them. 

10 


THE   WILLOUGHBYS 

Certainly  the  fact  of  their  sturdy  economy  and 
general  well-to-do-ness  could  not  be  too  much 
dwelt  upon.  Some  of  them  were  even  rather 
close  in  money  matters,  and  wherever  you  found 
them,  and  whatever  you  found  them,  as  a  rule, 
they  were  pretty  sure  to  be  rather  carefully  look 
ing  after  their  material  interests. 

There  was  another  thing  about  them :  they 
were  of  English  origin  and  rather  proud  of  it. 
Old  Enoch's  father,  John,  had  lived  in  western 
Pennsylvania ;  and  his  father,  whose  name  I 
have  forgotten,  had  lived  in  Philadelphia,  and 
had  had  in  his  possession  some  documents,  title 
deeds,  and  abstracts,  executed  to  his  father, 
William  Willoughby,  by  William  Penn.  Of 
course,  many  people,  in  this  latitude,  traced 
their  origin  to  Penn  or  his  times,  and  old  Wil 
loughby  was  no  exception  to  this  custom.  The 
habit  passed  down  in  the  family  to  Enoch  and 
Enoch  P.  It  seemed  a  perfectly  harmless 
habit,  and  if  it  was  able  to  lend  additional  dig 
nity  to  any  one  of  them,  it  certainly  was  as 
cheap  a  method  of  attaining  dignity  as  could  be 
found. 


11 


II 

THE  O'MARAS 

JUST  as  the  prevailing  characteristic  of  the 
"Willoughbys  had  been  queerness  so  that  of  the 
O'Maras  was  clear  and  distinct,  and  hard  to 
name.  Theirs  was  a  large  iamily,  too,  with 
some  Welsh  blood,  and  perhaps  that  accounts 
for  it.  This  family  had  begun  to  decline,  or  be 
gan  about  the  time  our  story  commences.  The 
reason  for  this  decline  seemed  to  lie  in  the 
easy  temper  and  yielding  disposition  with  which 
they  were  endowed.  The  whole  family  never 
produced  a  political  or  religious  reformer  or 
bigot  in  its  entire  history  in  America.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  number  of  minor  poets  and 
actors,  singers,  and  small  orators  in  the  family 
was  abnormally  great. 

At  this  time  in  its  history,  wrhen  the  period 
of  religious  conversion  came  upon  the  various 
members  of  the  O'Mara  family,  they  were  quite 
apt  to  go  to  the  dogs  in  some  way  or  other. 
Instead  of  becoming  eccentric  and  finding  their 
wills  and  purposes  strengthened,  they  gave  up  ; 
waited  on  the  Lord  to  do  everything  for  them  ; 
and  frequently  found  themselves  unattended  by 
12 


THE    O'MARAS 

him  to  any  great  length.  They  were  inclined  to 
be  hopeless,  and  so,  as  a  rule,  were  not  relig 
ious.  Out  of  this  fundamental  disposition 
impressionable  characters  were  developed,  who 
were  easily  influenced  by  their  surroundings. 
They  became  popular  ;  and  you  might  expect  a 
great  number  of  a  family  such  as  this  to  occupy 
public  positions,  but  never  to  leave  a  great  im 
pression  on  the  public  mind.  The  religious 
character  is  the  only  one  that  is  really  strong 
and  enduring,  whether  for  good  or  bad,  and  the 
family  could  not  be  called  religious. 

Of  Hannah's  four  sisters,  the  youngest,  Lyd- 
die,  was,  in  her  early  years,  impressionable 
enough  almost  to  have  become  a  second  Joan 
of  Arc ;  the  sweetest  girl ;  of  most  tender  nat 
ure  ;  eyes  like  a  fawn,  and  a  spirituality  that 
shone  in  her  every  look. 

She  came  near  marrying  the  first  man  that 
presented  himself,  as  we  shall  see,  and,  had  she 
done  so,  would  have  lived  a  life  of  hardship  as 
a  drunkard's  wife  ever  afterward,  though  always 
happy,  loving,  and  sweet,  I  am  sure. 

The  oldest  sister  was  that  one  who  eventually 
became  a  kind  of  crone,  and  spent  her  days  in 
the  chimney  corner,  reading  Pinneo's  grammar 
with  the  intonations  of  a  priest.  She  had,  among 
the  Quakers,  friends  who  took  care  of  her,  for 
she  was  harmless  and  withal  gentle. 

She  was  the  one  who,  in  her  old  age,  lived 
13 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

with  Hannah  after  the  spiritualism  was  well  de 
veloped,  and  who  thought  it  was  all  the  work  of 
the  devil.  She  used  to  go  off  up-stairs  to  bed, 
cover  her  head  in  the  blanket  and  lie  and  moan 
when  there  were  spiritual  meetings  and  she 
heard  Enoch  speaking  under  the  influence  be 
low.  Peace  to  her  ashes,  she  is  dead.  She 
was. not  religious  in  my  opinion,  but  she  was 
ecclesiastical  and  had  all  those  trite  similes  and 
metaphors  of  church  language  on  her  tongue 
constantly. 

Then  there  was  that  sister  who  died  at  Han 
nah's,  that  one  of  whom  only  one  thing  is  neces 
sary  as  a  characteristic.  She  died  with  the 
words,  "  Pooh,  pooh,"  on  her  lips.  It  was  the 
question  of  the  spirit  life,  in  which  she  had  no 
belief  and  with  which  she  had  no  patience. 
She  was  an  Ingersollian,  with  not  enough  in 
terest  in  the  whole  subject  of  religion  to  be 
properly  called  an  agnostic  even.  Or  rather  she 
was  an  indifferentist,  and  considered  it  more 
sensible  to  talk  about  the  cooking  of  onions  or 
the  training  of  puppy  dogs  than  of  entering  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

It  was  on  her  very  death -bed  that  Enoch 
said  to  her,  "  Beck,  we  shall  meet  again  over 
the  river."  And  she  turned  over  with  those 
words,  "  Pooh,  pooh,"  so  weak  on  her  lips  as 
hardly  to  be  heard,  but  plainly  to  be  recog 
nized  as  like  her,  and  died. 
14 


THE    O'MARAS 

Peace  to  her  ashes,  too.  She  showed  more 
individuality  and  force  of  character  in  her  in 
difference  than  most  of  her  family  did,  and  was 
not  by  any  means  a  bad  woman. 

There  was  one  other  sister,  who  never  came 
into  close  connection  at  all  with  our  Enoch,  and 
perhaps  we  might  not  mention  her.  She  was  an 
elocutionist,  and  in  the  execution  of  "  Clarence's 
Dream,"  or  some  such  tragedy,  may  have  found 
sufficient  vent  for  her  surplus  imagination  and 
exercise  for  the  muscles  of  her  diaphragm.  She 
was  not  a  bad  woman  by  any  means ;  but,  though 
she  claimed  religion,  I  am  inclined  to  think  it 
was  mostly  abdominal ;  and  that  she  formed, 
therefore,  no  exception  to  the  general  rule  of 
the  O'Mara  family. 

Of  the  five  boys,  three  were  musicians  ;  one 
wrote  poetry  ;  and  one  went  off  early  and 
joined  the  Shakers,  and  was  lost  sight  of. 
There  were  few  descendants  of  any  of  them  to 
bear  their  name.  When  people  become  hope 
less  and  irreligious,  they  become  unprolific ; 
for  why  should  man,  whose  life  is  of  few  days 
and  full  of  trouble  any  way,  propagate  himself  ? 

These  men  were  all  pleasant  natured,  but  they 
are  all  gone.  They  were  like  some  exotic  plant 
that  you  attempt  to  cultivate ;  it  flourishes  for 
a  time,  but  pretty  soon,  you  hardly  know  why, 
you  can  scarcely  find  a  specimen  of  it  left. 
Their  genealogical  tree  culminated  in  this  fam- 
15 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

il}r  of  ten  children,  and  then  died  out.  Back  of 
it  there  may  have  been,  must  have  been,  some 
thing  strong  and  durable  ;  but  it  took  the  worm 
in  the  bud  and  died. 

Peace  to  all  the  family  !  They  may  have  been 
as  well  off,  the  O'Maras,  as  the  Willoughbys,  but 
look  at  the  difference !  Old  Margaret  Willough- 
by,  when  she  died,  was  the  mother,  grand 
mother,  and  great-grandmother  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty-nine  children,  grandchildren,  and 
great-grandchildren.  I  am  not  sure  but  there 
were  even  great-greats  among  them.  And  at 
that  time  there  were  hardly  a  baker's  dozen 
O'Maras  left  in  the  world. 

It  may  have  been  the  feeling  of  this  funda 
mental  difference  in  the  make-up  of  the  families 
that  caused  a  little  opposition  to  the  marriage 
of  young  Enoch  Willoughby  and  Hannah 
O'Mara.  One  family  was  going  up  and  the 
other  was  going  down.  One  was  multiplying 
and  replenishing  the  earth  at  a  great  rate ;  the 
other  was  degenerating,  weakening,  dying  out. 

If  old  Margaret  Willoughby  had  had  a  daugh 
ter-in-law  with  a  hooked  nose,  a  suspicion  of  a 
mustache,  a  square-set  jaw,  a  voice  harsh  and 
commanding,  and  a  disposition  to  be  obeyed 
corresponding  with  all  these  qualities,  I  warrant 
you  she  would  have  meekened  herself  into  the 
most  amiable  of  mothers-in-law,  for  she  could 
be  good  if  she  tried.  The  deep  magnetism  of 
16 


THE    O'MABAS 

her  water -witching  power  would  thrill  one  ;  her 
voice  was  magnetic,  too,  and  her  face  as  express 
ive  and  captivating  as  if  every  separate  muscle 
had  been  under  her  special  command.  But 
when  visitors  were  absent ;  when  the  neces 
sity  for  self-control  was  no  longer  apparent ; 
when  the  old,  human  nature  was  allowed  to 
assert  itself;  she  could  become  as  disagree 
able  as  a  rattlesnake,  and  not  even  be  conscious 
that  she  was  not  as  good  as  ever. 

So  she  could  never  understand  why  young 
Hannah  was  all  the  time  crying  after  she  came 
there  to  live. 

"What  was  the  matter  with  her?  "  she  won 
dered.  "  She  did  not  seem  to  have  any  force 
of  character."  And  so  at  the  most  trivial  mat 
ters  she  would  scold  :  if  just  the  right  directions 
had  not  been  given  to  the  servant ;  if  one  of 
her  Irish  linen  table-cloths  had  inadvertently 
been  used  for  every  day  ;  or  any  other  thing, 
no  matter  how  little,  had  gone  wrong. 

And  then  she  would,  most  likely,  come  across 
Hannah,  slender,  delicate,  poetic  Hannah,  off 
somewhere  with  eyes  bathed  in  tears,  and  she 
would  scold  her  again.  What  was  the  mat 
ter?  She  ought  to  know  better  than  to  give 
way  to  her  feelings  so,  especially  at  this  time  ; 
the  child  would  be  a  milksop  and  degenerate. 
She  ought  to  be  cheerful.  And  then,  when 
Enoch  would  come  home  from  work,  Hannah 
17 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

•would  seek  him  and  throw  her  arms  about  his 
neck  and  weep  again,  with  no  cause  apparent. 

She  could  not  and  would  not  talk  about  his 
mother.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the  first  blue- 
eyed  boy  was  weak  and  fretful,  a  whining  in 
fant,  hard  to  take  care  of. 

And  the  grandmother  scolded  the  oftener  and 
the  mother  cried  the  more ;  and  the  poor  old 
grandfather  smoothed  over  and  calmed  down 
everything  as  often  and  as  well  as  he  could  ; 
walked  the  woods  with  the  little  grandchild  in 
his  arms  to  ease  grandmother's  temper,  and  yet 
was  rather  glad  for  the  sake  of  peace,  when 
young  Enoch  took  his  wife,  and  pulling  up 
stakes,  broke  camp,  and  removed  for  good  and 
all,  no  matter  where. 

It  is  the  law  of  the  world  that  families  shall 
be  broken  up  in  order  that  families  shall  bo 
formed  and  live. 

"Good-by,  father;  good-by,  mother,"  Enoch 
and  Hannah  had  said  bravely  when  the  parting 
came  ;  "let  us  have  no  harshness,  only  love  and 
friendliness;  we  are  following  the  ways  of  the 
world.  Come  and  see  us  when  we  get  settled. 
We  will  come  back  again  some  time  to  old 
Ohio.  Good-by,  good-by ! " 


18 


Ill 

PROSPERITY 

PROSPERITY  did  not  mean  wealth  for  young 
Enoch  and  Hannah  in  their  new  Western  life. 
It  meant  rather  health,  industry,  economy. 
There  is  no  story  in  this  chapter.  How  can 
you  make  a  story  of  two  happy  and  loving 
young  people,  who  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
go  out  into  the  world  and  conquer  a  place  in  it, 
and  who  are  doing  so  with  might  and  main  ? 

As  soon  as  they  were  fairly  started  on  the 
way,  the  young  wife  threw  her  arms  around  her 
husband's  neck  and  sobbed  from  excess  of 
happiness.  Now  she  was  free.  She  would 
rather  a  thousand  times  live  in  a  log  cabin  and 
be  free  to  do  as  she  pleased  in  it,  than  to  live  in 
a  mansion  and  feel  that  she  was  always  nagged 
at,  and  that  things  were  never  right.  She  felt 
great  throbs  of  gratitude  to  her  husband  who 
had  at  last  understood  her  without  a  word  of 
explanation,  and  had  said :  "  Wife  and  chil 
dren  first,  and  father  and  mother  afterward," 
and  taken  them  away. 

She  felt  her  love  increase  for  his  parents. 
Dear  old  Margaret !  She  could  see  now  she 
19 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

never  meant  it ;  she  had  not  understood  ;  she 
had  forgotten  the  feelings  of  a  young  wife  and 
mother  in  a  new  home.  And  Hannah  resolved, 
over  and  over  again,  to  do  her  best.  She  said 
in  her  heart  she  would  work  for  him,  she  would 
slave  for  him.  A  man  who  would  make  a  sacri 
fice  like  that  deserved  to  be  followed  in  the 
best  sense  of  the  word,  and  she  would  follow 
him. 

There  was  another  cause  for  gratitude  that 
was  not  without  its  sting :  her  mother  had 
recently  died ;  her  father  had  lost  his  property 
through  a  bad  security  debt,  and  with  it  his 
self-control  and  stability  of  character.  He  was 
not  fit  to  take  charge  of  his  young  children,  and 
Enoch  readily  took  them  along.  It  was  noth 
ing,  he  said;  he  hardly  thought  of  it.  They 
would  soon  be  able  to  work ;  were  able  to  do 
something  even  then  ;  those  three  children  were 
no  hindrance.  And  so  they  started  West. 

There  was  something  glorious  about  Western 
life  some  fifty  years  ago.  What  black  furrows 
they  cut  in  the  green  sod  out  in  Indiana,  and 
how  high  they  "  heaped  the  golden  corn." 
When  the  first  signs  of  sterility  came  in  the 
over-teeming  soil,  they  sold  to  a  new-comer  at 
advanced  prices,  and  went  on  to  Iowa,  and  hero 
again  rich  harvests  of  wheat  and  sales  of  fat 
cattle  helped  the  young  Westerner.  These  were 
the  days  when  people  carried  yellow  metal  in 
20 


PROSPERITY 

their    pockets,   and  wages    were    worth    their 
weight  in  gold. 

Enoch  hunted  prairie  chickens  and  quails  and 
carried  on  his  shoulder  one  of  the  best  stub  and 
twist  shot-guns  in  the  market,  with  his  initials 
carved  on  the  stock,  and  there  was  not  a  better 
shot  in  the  country  than  he.  How  proud  Han 
nah  used  to  be  of  her  tall,  black-haired,  handsome 
hunter !  The  boys  would  run  to  meet  him  and 
carry  his  game  when  he  came  home  ;  he  had  one 
of  the  best  hunting  dogs  about  there.  You  could 
hear  him  sing  as  he  strode  out  over  the  prairie : 

"  Let  the  huntsman  praise  his  hounds ; 
And  the  farmer  praise  his  grounds ; 
And  the  priest  praise  the  world  that's  to  come  !  " 

If  only  he  had  let  the  priest  do  the  praising 
of  the  world  that  is  to  come  ! 

But  it  was  a  rich,  full  life,  not  only  out 
wardly  ;  this  young  couple  were  eagerly  striving 
for  intellectual  improvement.  Some  of  the 
best  educations  are  obtained  by  men  who  have 
had  no  advantages  for  education ;  who  have  been 
balked  in  going  to  academy  or  college,  and  have 
retained  from  this  a  heightened  sense  of  the 
incompleteness  of  their  education.  They  have 
then  remained  students  all  their  lives,  and  while 
they  express  themselves  with  humility,  because 
their  learning,  they  feel,  has  not  the  stamp  of 
authority  on  it,  have  yet  become  the  best  think- 
21 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

ers,  the  best  scholars,  and  the  richest  minds  of 
the  time.  Young  Willoughby  had  a  longing  for 
learning.  He  had  had  little  schooling.  An 
itinerant  teacher  had  kept  a  night-school  in  his 
district  in  Ohio,  and  there  he  had  gotten  the 
single  rule  of  three,  the  rudiments  of  natural 
philosophy,  and  the  beginnings  in  astronomy. 
He  liked  to  study,  but  never  read  what  he  did 
not  want  to  remember.  He  read  no  trashy 
novels,  but  he  studied  the  problems  of  the  stars ; 
he  had  a  clear  idea  of  the  universe  in  the 
modern  conception.  He  had  worked  out  for 
himself  from  these  beginnings  in  natural  phil 
osophy  a  fair  knowledge  of  mechanics  also,  and 
he  turned  with  an  almost  infinite  delight  to  the 
study  of  the  Bible. 

He  was  a  man  of  good  judgment  in  business 
and  made  money.  People  came  to  him  for  ad 
vice.  Young  men  were  sure  of  his  sympathy. 
He  paid  Mo.se  and  Eck,  his  young  brothers-in- 
law,  for  all  they  did,  paid  them  well ;  he  soon 
got  them  places  where  they  could  work  for 
themselves,  and  wras  in  truth  their  elder  brother. 

Hannah  read  too.  That  tall,  slender  woman, 
delicate  in  appearance,  must  have  been  of  iron- 
wood  fibre,  for  she  did  her  own  work  volun 
tarily;  brought  up  her  children  herself;  found 
time  to  read,  and  go  on  occasional  visits ;  and 
go  always  to  meeting  on  First  days  and  some 
times  on  Fourth  days  as  well. 
22 


PROSPERITY 

It  might  do  our  degenerate  age  good  to  see 
and  know  two  such  people. 

Young  Willoughby  looked  at  that  time  more 
like  the  picture  of  Lowell  when  he  was  young 
than  like  anybody  else ;  his  nose  was  a  little 
more  curved  perhaps,  and  there  might  have 
been  a  little  more  of  the  Jewish  cast  in  his 
countenance.  But  as  he  strode  over  the  hills  or 
went  about  among  his  fellows,  he  was  plainly 
king  of  them  all,  hills  and  fellows  ;  a  man  with 
out  guile,  with  deep  hope,  strong,  religious  nat 
ure,  deep  love  of  wife  and  family,  such  a  man 
as  we  should  like  to  write  a  panegyric  upon  if 
the  time  would  permit;  proud  of  his  English 
descent,  proud  of  his  broad  acres,  proud  of  his 
Western  Americanism,  proud  of  his  wife  and 
children,  proud  of  his  Quaker  parentage, 
proud  of  his  own  manhood,  and  proud  because, 
in  the  common  sense  of  the  word,  he  was  not 
proud. 

He  had  something  of  the  poet  in  him,  too,  for 
he  was  sensitive  and  delicate  ;  half  woman  in 
disposition ;  loved  the  moods  of  nature  ;  took 
solitary  walks  in  the  middle  of  the  night  or 
through  the  gloomy  woods,  dripping  with  water ; 
or  over  the  prairies  in  the  very  face  and  teeth  of 
the  oncoming  storm.  Only  expression  was  lack 
ing  in  him.  If  that  had  been  there,  he  might 
have  become  a  poet,  and  been  saved.  Rhythm, 
alliteration,  cadence,  the  melody  of  sound,  and 
23 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

the  harmony  of  composition,  have  saved  many  a 
man  from  something  worse. 

And  Hannah,  with  a  little  touch  of  melan 
choly  that  came  from  the  O'Mara  nature,  had, 
alternating  with  it,  spells  of  exuberant  gayety ; 
the  tricks  of  a  girl ;  the  mimicry  of  an  actress ; 
the  lightness  of  wit  almost  of  a  woman  of 
Shakespeare,  if  there  had  only  been  some  one  to 
reproduce  it.  She  was  a  true  elder  sister  and 
companion,  both  to  her  own  children  and  to  her 
brothers  and  sisters. 

And  to  those  two,  the  church,  that  is  the 
Quaker  meeting  several  miles  away,  was  a  great 
thing.  It  formed  the  centre  of  their  social  life, 
and  they  were  proud  of  it.  It  was  the  nucleus 
of  their  intellectual  life,  and  they  respected  it. 
It  was  the  soul  of  their  spiritual  life,  and  they 
venerated  it.  It  was  the  church  of  their  fathers 
and  they  loved  it.  On  First  day  mornings  and 
often  on  Fourth  day,  they  rose  much  earlier 
than  usual ;  got  breakfast  and  did  up  the  work 
and  chores  ;  curried  and  harnessed  the  horses ; 
washed  and  dressed  the  children,  and  dressed 
themselves  carefully ;  provided  against  a  possi 
ble  storm  ;  allowed  themselves  an  hour  or  more 
for  going,  and  went  away  to  Quaker  meeting. 

That  is  enough  of  their  life  to  show  what  was 
meant  by  this  chapter  on  prosperity.     Would  it 
might  never  have  ended !     Would  it  could  have 
gone  on  to  an  endless  increase  ! 
24 


IV 

THE  CLOSED   BOOK 

"  DON'T  go,  Enoch,  don't,  go." 

These  words  of  Hannah  to  Enoch  were  said 
with  deep  feeling,  for  how  could  the  young 
wife  bear  to  be  left  alone  with  nobody  but  the 
children,  on  a  farm,  in  a  solitary  house,  far  away 
from  the  rest  of  the  neighborhood  in  a  wild 
country,  before  civilization  had  well  advanced 
around  them ;  and  that,  too,  for  what  she  con 
sidered  a  foolish  idea ;  a  mere  unnecessary  fan 
cy  ;  and  yet,  one  she  was  bound  to  respect. 

It  was  a  question  of  Enoch's  going  away  to 
preach,  to  become  a  Quaker  preacher ;  and  that 
meant  in  those  days  to  lead  a  life  of  sacrifice 
and  real  privation.  The  Quakers  believed  in 
the  operation  of  the  holy  spirit,  and  so  did  not 
have  ministers  educated  for  preaching,  or  a 
hireling  ministry.  When  the  spirit  came  upon 
them,  and  they  felt  forced  to  it,  they  went 
about  and  preached  the  gospel  in  communities 
where  they  thought  it  was  necessary.  They 
often  had  help,  were  frequently  carried  from 
settlement  to  settlement ;  but  they  supported 
25 


themselves,  and  sacrificed  often  their  time  and 
their  business  to  their  sense  of  duty. 

Enoch  Willoughby  was  a  spiritually  minded 
man,  deep,  earnest,  sensitive.  The  silence  of 
the  meeting,  like  that  of  the  woods,  the  mid 
night,  and  the  solitude  of  the  storm,  was  full 
of  meaning  to  him.  At  these  times  his  mind 
filled  with  an  inrush  of  thoughts  that  almost 
carried  him  away.  Once  or  twice,  under  their 
strong  influence,  he  had  risen  and  spoken  in 
meeting. 

The  Friends  had  come  up  afterward  and  con 
gratulated  him  on  his  words,  and  he  and  Hannah 
had  gone  home,  warm  through  and  through  with 
that  good  feeling  which  comes  only  from  the 
praise  of  those  for  whose  praise  we  care. 

Hannah,  also,  had  once  or  twice  ventured  a 
word  in  the  woman's  part  of  the  meeting-house, 
and  had  been  commended  for  it ;  and  these  two 
had  thought  about  it,  and  talked  about  it.  It 
was  for  both  of  them  a  sort  of  golden  dream,  a 
rich,  good  something  that  had  come  into  their 
lives.  It  was  as  though  you  had  suddenly  found 
you  had  a  talent  for  acting,  a  real,  genuine  talent, 
and  were  thinking  how  you  could  cultivate  it, 
develop  it,  and  make  something  out  of  it  ;  think 
ing  how  your  friends  would  praise  you  first,  and 
later  on  an  audience ;  then  a  community,  and 
how  pretty  soon  you  would  be  known  every 
where,  and  your  opportunity  to  do  great  and 
26 


THE   CLOSED   BOOK 

good  things  increased  a  hundred-fold.  "We  all 
have  a  little  of  this  in  us,  and  Enoch  and  Han 
nah  certainly  were  not  to  be  blamed  for  it. 

But  the  next  time  Enoch  ventured  to  speak 
there  was  something  noticeable  about  his  speak 
ing.  People  looked  up  ;  was  it  his  breathing 
or  the  expression  of  his  face  ?  Or  what  was  it  ? 
There  was  something  singular  about  him. 

All  the  Quakers  in  those  days  preached  in 
a  sing-song,  a  kind  of  uncultivated  intoning. 
Even  at  that  time  people  had  begun  to  discuss 
this  sing-song  a  little,  and  wonder  whether  it 
was  necessary  to  good  speaking.  Some  had 
even  tried  to  speak  without  it.  At  the  same 
time  a  very  few  had  ventured  to  start  a  set  tune 
in  meeting,  but  the  more  spiritual  had  imme 
diately  frowned  the  attempt  down.  "To  pro 
duce  artificial  aids  to  the  spirit  was  to  deaden 
the  spirit,"  these  said ;  and  they  were  perhaps 
right ;  for,  with  organs  and  instruments  and  set 
psalms,  with  hired  ministers  and  paid  choirs,  the 
old  improvised  religion  is  crowded  out,  and  one 
of  formality  takes  its  place.  In  religion  as  in 
literature  or  art,  the  creative  impulse  must  pass 
through  three  phases :  first  it  worships,  then 
hates,  then  rightly  estimates  its  models  before  it 
can  give  full  expression  to  that  which  is  within 
itself.  In  Enoch  Willoughby  the  subconscious- 
ness  was  very  great.  He  was  a  man  of  dreams 
and  vision,  of  intuition  and  indefinite  inipres- 
27 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

sion ;  but  lie  was  not  a  poet,  for  the  faculty  of 
expression  in  him  was  not  cultivated. 

Things  were  bom  into  his  consciousness 
by  a  painful  parturition,  so  that  when  the 
spirit  came  over  him  in  meeting,  he  would  first 
begin  to  twitch  and  jerk.  The  muscles  of  his 
face  would  move  uneasily,  and  without  control 
of  the  will ;  his  eyes  assumed  a  peculiar  look ; 
frequently  his  knees  or  his  feet  would  be  affected 
in  some  odd  way ;  and  his  voice  took  on  a  tone 
that  was  not  at  all  natural  to  him.  It  was  not 
like  the  regular  Quaker  sing-song.  It  was  not 
pleasant  to  look  at  him  at  these  times,  nor  was  it 
pleasant  to  hear  his  voice. 

Very  frequently  these  actions  would  come 
upon  him  and  last  for  a  considerable  time  before 
he  would  be  able  to  speak  a  word ;  his  breathing 
would  be  heavy ;  he  would  be  a  noticeable  sight ; 
and  control  himself  he  could  not,  without  at 
once,  as  he  said,  driving  the  spirit  away ;  and 
this,  he  thought,  was  wrong ;  perhaps  even  the 
unpardonable  sin. 

It  must  be  remembered  we  are  not  describing 
superficial,  trivial  things  here ;  we  are  describ 
ing  what  is  deepest  and  most  important  in  some 
men's  experience.  This  man  believed  in  the 
spirit  as  an  actual  reality  ;  as  we  all  did  in  those 
days.  He  believed  as  much  in  the  possibility 
of  offending  the  Holy  Ghost  as  you  and  I  do  in 
the  possibility  of  offending  our  neighbors. 
28 


THE   CLOSED   BOOK 

And  now,  nothing  in  their  lives,  not  even  the 
bringing  up  and  educating  of  their  children — 
not  even  their  relations  to  one  another,  or  to  the 
world,  was  more  important  to  these  young  peo 
ple  than  this  matter  of  Enoch's  speaking  in 
meeting.  He  longed  to  talk  with  his  father  in 
Ohio  about  it.  He  felt  the  kind  of  impression 
he  was  making  on  the  meeting,  and  knew  it  was 
not  good.  The  old  rich  feeling  of  warmth  to  the 
heart's  core,  with  which  he  and  Hannah  had 
once  gone  home  from  meeting  after  speaking 
there,  was  changed  to  one  of  mixed  humiliation, 
and  resisting  pride,  and  determined  persever 
ance. 

Enoch  must  preach.  He  had  been  "  called," 
and  he  could  not  help  it.  The  matter  took  com 
plete  possession  of  his  mind.  He  did  almost 
nothing  but  think  about  it.  He  grew  solitary, 
and  wandered  through  the  woods  and  over  the 
prairie,  neglecting  his  work  and  the  children 
and  Hannah.  He  remembered  the  deep  peace 
that  came  over  him  in  meeting  after  he  had 
spoken  ;  it  was  to  him  like  sunshine  after  storm  : 
like  the  placid  lake  after  the  rapids;  like  the 
quiet  spring  day  after  the  winds  and  storms  of 
March  and  April.  He  must  obey  the  call. 

And  then  he  turned  to  reading  the  Bible,  and 

he  encouraged   himself   in  his  course.     There 

was  hardly  a  morning  that  he  did  not  have  a 

dream  or  vision  to  interpret,  and  when  inter- 

29 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

preted  it  meant  always  that  he  must  go  out  and 
preach. 

Hannah  sympathized  with  him  fully  and 
thoroughly ;  but  she  would  have  been  hardly  hu 
man,  and  certainly  not  the  practical  woman  she 
was,  if  she  had  not  had  some  objections  to  his 
going.  She  urged  him  not  to  go.  She  told  him 
she  did  not  believe  the  Committee  would  ever 
give  him  a  letter  to  preach ;  they  did  not  like 
his  manner ;  and,  then,  she  did  not  know  what 
the  rest  of  them  would  do.  She  even  worked 
herself  up  to  considerable  spirit  in  this  conver 
sation  ;  and  when  he  said  such  things  as  "  The 
Lord  will  provide,"  and  "  Seek  ye  first  the  King 
dom  of  Heaven,  and  all  these  things  will  be 
added  unto  you,"  and  "  It  is  only  what  the  Mas 
ter  did,  etc., "she  would  reply  that  Jesus  had  no 
wife  and  children  to  leave  alone  in  a  solitary 
farmhouse ;  and  if  He  had  had,  she  did  not  be 
lieve  He  would  have  gone ;  but  if  He  had  then 
gone,  under  such  circumstances,  she  thought  He 
might  have  done  better. 

These  were  bitter  days  for  the  whole  family. 
When  the  father  came  in,  the  children  did  not 
run  to  him  as  before;  they  knew  something 
was  the  matter.  They  sympathized  with  their 
mother;  they  cast  shy  glances  at  their  father 
and  left  him  for  the  most  part  alone.  The  air 
was  oppressive  and  heavy  ;  it  seemed  almost  as 
if  some  one  were  dead  in  the  house.  What 
30 


THE   CLOSED   BOOK 

would  ever  become  of  them?  The  gun,  with 
its  carved  stock,  rested  on  its  rack  over  the 
door.  The  poor  dog,  dejected  and  unnoticed, 
followed  his  master  about.  These  were  sad,  sad 
days ;  and  little  James,  the  oldest  boy,  would 
talk  to  his  mother  about  what  was  the  matter 
with  father ;  and  his  mother  would  tell  him  he 
wanted  to  go  and  preach  ;  he  thought  he  ought 
to  go  and  preach.  And  if  the  boy  said  anything, 
as  he  was  inclined  to  do,  not  quite  complimen 
tary  about  his  father,  the  mother  would  hush 
the  child  up  as  gently  as  possible. 

She  was  determined  to  be  a  true  and  loyal 
wife,  and  teach  her  children  respect  for  their 
father.  She  tried  to  keep  them  from  hearing 
the  discussion  as  much  as  she  could,  but  when 
it  came  to  the  last,  and  Enoch  said  he  "  must 
go,  Hannah,"  and  she  and  he  stood  out  by  the 
house  alone  as  she  thought — he  had  kissed  the 
children  good-by  without  saying  anything  about 
it — then  she  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck 
and  sobbed  and  cried  : 

"  Don't  go,  don't  go." 

It  was  very  pitiful ;  and  all  the  time  there 
was  a  little  fellow  around  the  corner  of  the 
house,  with  clenched  fist,  and  teeth  set  hard, 
and  lips  gnawing  as  he  listened. 

Finally  Enoch  took  his  wife's  arms  gently 
from  around  his  neck,  and  kissed  her ;  he  put 
her  firmly  away,  as  if  putting  aside  the  temp- 
31 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

tation  to  worldly  and  carnal  things ;  bade  her 
good-by ;  to  be  of  good  cheer  ;  and  went  awa}-, 
and  left  her. 

Then  she  sank  to  the  ground,  sobbing  as  if 
her  heart  would  break,  and  then,  the  little  fel 
low,  from  around  the  corner  of  the  house, 
rushed  out,  threw  his  arms  about  his  mother's 
neck  ;  and  in  his  burst  of  comforting  zeal,  cried 
out,  in  the  midst  of  tears  and  sobs  : 

"  Never  mind,  mother,  don't  cry.  Let  the  old 
fool  go!" 

They  were  dreadful  words  for  a  child;  but 
one  must  imagine  the  long  strain  he  had  been 
under ;  imagine  his  quivering  lips  and  com 
pressed  passion. 

In  an  instant  Hannah's  tears  ceased;  she 
rose  slowly,  and  looked  at  the  child  for  a  long 
time  closely  and  earnestly.  The  boy  felt  as 
though  the  heavens  were  about  to  fall.  What 
had  he  done  ?  That  word  "  fool  "  he  had  never 
been  allowed  to  use  ;  had  never  used  it,  per 
haps,  before  ;  but  he  had  heard,  "  whosoever 
calleth  his  brother  fool,  is  in  danger  of  hell 
fire ; "  and  though  this  was  not  his  brother, 
perhaps  it  was  worse  than  if  it  had  been ;  for 
that  very  reason,  he  had  said  it;  because  he 
knew  it  was  such  an  awful  word. 

Finally  his  mother  told  him  she  would  have 
to  punish  him.  She  directed  him  to  go  and 
get  a  switch  from  the  apple-tree  in  the  garden, 
32 


THE   CLOSED   BOOK 

and  bring  it  to  her.  The  boy  obeyed  without  a 
word,  and  took  his  punishment  without  a  mur 
mur  ;  then  kissed  his  mother  and  went  away. 

At  first,  after  the  whipping,  the  boy  felt  glad 
that  he  had  said  what  he  did.  It  is  the  first 
effect  of  punishment  to  justify  the  punished  in 
their  own  eyes.  Then  he  began  gradually  to 
have  compunction,  and  then  he  went  off  and 
hid  in  the  haymow. 

There  his  little  heart  filled  up  with  remem 
brance  of  his  father,  whom  he  loved  tenderly ; 
and  he  began  to  cry.  It  was  not  long  till  his 
thoughts  turned  into  prayer.  He  got  down  on 
his  knees,  and  prayed,  and  sobbed.  The  great, 
awful  danger  of  hell  fire  was  over  and  about 
him.  The  wrong  he  had  done,  the  love  of  his 
mother,  his  pride  in  defending  and  comforting 
her,  then  his  humiliation  and  defeat,  and  now 
this  dreadful  load  of  an  offended  God  and  the 
torments  of  the  damned,  rose  up  before  him. 
It  was  too  much  almost  for  him  to  bear.  He 
prayed  for  forgiveness  long  and  hard. 

Finally  the  overwrought  muscles  and  nerves 
relaxed.  There  came  upon  him  such  peace, 
such  sweet  peace.  God  had  forgiven  him.  He 
knew  it  as  well  as  he  knew  that  the  sun  had 
risen,  but  he  did  not  stop  to  think  of  it.  He 
rested  in  it.  He  laid  his  little  head  down  on 
the  hay  ;  his  eyes  closed  ;  the  child  was  asleep 
in  the  haymow. 

33 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

Hannah  had,  at  first,  thought  she  would  take 
the  children  and  go  back  to  Ohio ;  then  she  had 
considered  the  matter  again,  and  decided  to 
wait  awhile.  Perhaps  Enoch  would  return  be 
fore  long.  It  might  be  he  would  find  himself 
mistaken.  Perhaps  his  call  was  not  so  clear  as 
he  had  thought.  Possibly  the  spirit  would  not 
come  upon  him  when  he  tried  to  preach  away 
from  home,  among  strangers.  She  felt  a  little 
satisfaction  in  thinking  of  it.  She  almost  hoped 
it  would  not  come.  She  did  not  believe  there 
was  any  real  necessity  for  his  going  ;  she  be 
lieved  he  would  soon  come  back ;  at  any  rate, 
she  would  wait  awhile  before  doing  anything. 

Now  let  us  consider  a  moment  what  Enoch 
himself  thought,  for  we  should  be  unwilling  to 
consider  it  under  any  other  light  than  that  of 
deep  earnestness.  This  was  no  trivial  matter. 
Of  course  he  never  became  a  preacher.  Now, 
we  can  look  back  upon  it  and  consider  it  with 
a  view  to  later  events,  and  it  seems  altogether 
different ;  but  then,  Enoch  was  young ;  he  did 
not  know  the  future  ;  his  mind  was  full  of  great 
things,  especially  of  the  life  of  Jesus.  The 
story  of  the  gospels  was  constantly  in  his  mind  ; 
even  their  beautiful,  old  English  styles  of  ex 
pression  were  on  his  tongue.  I  have  no  doubt  he 
imagined  himself  being  driven  out  from  home 
by  the  spirit  into  the  wilderness  to  be  tempted 
of  the  devil.  All  those  expressions  of  the 
34 


Bible  that  justify  the  neglect  of  earthly  affairs 
for  the  sake  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  were 
constantly  in  his  mind. 

He  might  have  been  on  the  high  road  to  in 
sanity,  as  was  said  indeed,  yet  there  was  a  high 
intellectuality  about  this  little  farm-house  in 
those  days ;  a  profound  spirituality ;  tender 
emotions  ;  and  nothing  coarse,  nothing  vulgar, 
nothing  commonplace.  Not  every  one  is  ca 
pable,  as  young  Enoch  Willoughby  was,  of  be 
ing  led  to  such  convictions,  of  adopting  so  un 
selfish  and  noble  an  enthusiasm.  It  is  in  the 
silent  bosom  of  some  little  family  like  this  often, 
between  husband  and  wife,  between  mother  and 
daughter,  between  father  and  son,  or  son  and 
mother,  or  brothers  and  sisters,  that  the  great, 
deep  tragedies  of  life  are  lived  out  and  finished. 

What  experiences  of  mind  or  body  Enoch 
went  through  during  his  absence  Hannah  never 
knew.  The  time  remained  to  her  a  great,  sealed 
book.  It  is  doubtful  whether  Enoch  himself 
more  than  half  knew  where  he  went  or  what  he 
did.  He  knew  the  great  world  that  was  revolv 
ing  in  his  mind;  but  the  little  outer  world 
largely  escaped  his  observation.  The  Quakers 
did  not  give  him  a  letter  to  preach,  and  discour 
aged  him  from  the  undertaking.  He  cared  little, 
for  that  was  only  one  of  the  small  outward  for 
malities.  But  there  was  more  that  he  had  to 
care  for.  He  was  not  at  peace  with  the  spirit, 
35 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

nor  the  spirit  with  him.  There  was  not  that 
harmony  between  the  two  that  might  lead  to 
great  things  ;  the  incarnation  was  not  complete. 

There  were  always  himself  and  the  spirit 
struggling  to  retain  possession  of  the  flesh,  and 
however  they  might  rend  and  tear  it,  they  were 
never  at  peace.  I  mean,  exactly  the  same  old 
difficulties  of  expression  were  always  there,  and 
would  not  leave  him,  that  he  had  experienced 
when  he  attempted  to  speak  in  the  meetings  at 
home. 

It  was  nearly  six  weeks  before  he  returned, 
thin,  pale,  haggard.  The  struggle  with  the 
spiritual  world  had  been  very  great  in  him.  He 
fell  into  Hannah's  arms  in  one  long,  silent  em 
brace.  She  kissed  her  young  Enoch  passion 
ately,  and  smoothed  back  his  glossy,  black  hair, 
which  was  all  that  had  thriven  about  him  during 
that  period  of  wandering.  They  wept  together  as 
though  it  had  been  a  parting,  instead  of  a  meet 
ing.  He  hugged  his  children  to  his  breast,  but 
they  were  almost  afraid  of  him.  And  when 
finally  Hannah  asked  him  where  he  had  been, 
and  wanted  to  know  something  about  his  doings, 
he  said : 

"  Let  it  be  a  closed  book  between  us,  Hannah ; 
let  it  be  a  closed  book  between  us." 


36 


THE  VISION 

BUT  an  experience  like  this  could  not  be  en 
tirely  closed,  for  it  had  an  influence  on  Enoch's 
whole  life.  It  seemed  to  have  been  a  turning 
point  in  his  course,  or  rather  a  point  where  the 
hill -top  had  been  reached  in  the  road;  and 
where,  henceforth,  it  began  to  fall  away  and  run 
more  swiftly  and  decidedly  to  its  end.  Not  that 
from  this  time  he  was  taking  the  down-hill  road 
to  ruin,  or  anything  of  that  kind;  but  simply 
from  this  time  on  he  became  more  fixed  and 
positive,  less  and  less  amenable  to  the  advice  or 
influence  of  others. 

He  had  been  to  see  his  sister  Sarah,  that  one 
who  had  most  of  the  same  peculiar  nature  he1 
had  in  himself.  This  much  came  out  incident 
ally  from  his  conversation.  He  told  of  that 
wonderful  cure  she  had  effected  of  the  pain  in  his 
breast.  These  two  had  strengthened  each  other 
in  their  belief;  but  one  good  influence  Aunt 
Sarah — that  is  what  the  children  called  her — 
had  had  upon  him  :  she  taught  him  that  in  this 
day  and  generation  of  the  world  there  is  nothing 
more  important  for  a  man  of  a  family  to  do  than 
37 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

carefully  to  attend  to  his  family.  She  taught 
him  to  avoid  excess  in  his  enthusiasm — she  had 
probably  learned  that  from  her  own  experience  ; 
not  to  give  up  too  readily  to  his  impulses ; 
and  that  the  plain,  hard,  common-sense  of  busi 
ness  life  was  after  all  one  of  the  saving  graces 
and  kept  people  from  all  kinds  of  excesses.  He 
must  have  taken  this  lesson  in  thoroughly,  or 
else  it  was  a  part  of  the  old  Willoughby  inheri 
tance,  for  he  acted  in  accordance  with  it  from 
this  time  on. 

Though  he  never  grew  rich,  he  never  became 
poor ;  remained  independent  and  able  to  assist 
the  needy  about  him ;  and  even  when  he  went 
farthest  in  his  extravagant  theories  and  wild 
spiritualistic  notions,  he  always  kept  control  of 
his  business  and  lived  the  life  of  a  substantial, 
respectable  business  man. 

But  after  this  return,  he  talked  more  and  more 
of  spiritual  things,  that  is  of  strangely  spiritual 
things,  things  odd,  peculiar ;  this  cure  of  Aunt 
Sarah's  for  instance,  and  how  he  had  been  at  the 
cross-roads  and  not  known  which  way  to  turn, 
and  had  heard  a  voice,  as  it  were,  speaking  in 
his  ear,  telling  him  to  turn  to  the  left.  He  had 
done  so  and  had  come  to  his  destination.  His 
sister  had  told  him  his  very  thoughts  in  many 
cases.  They  had  talked  about  the  spirit.  They 
always  spoke  of  it  then  as  the  holy  spirit, — for 
they  were  both  Quakers, — and  the  peculiar  way 
38 


THE    VISION 

it  had  of  influencing  Enoch.  Sarah  explained 
that  to  him  as  an  inheritance  of  his  mother, 
Margaret,  who  had  a  strange  magnetic  influence 
about  her.  At  that  time  spiritualism  was  just 
starting  in  this  country.  They  had  both  heard 
of  it;  they  both  shunned  it;  but  they  both 
looked  into  it.  They  both  felt  interested,  but 
yet  a  little  afraid  of  the  matter. 

Indeed  they  believed  in  the  action  of  the  holy 
spirit,  believed  it  as  much  as  we  believe  any 
of  the  common  things  of  life,  and  this  influ 
ence  was  to  them  something  tangible,  real.  It 
was  possible  for  them  to  be  caught  up  by  the 
spirit,  they  thought,  and  be  actually  carried 
away  contrary  to  their  own  wills  and  purposes, 
to  be  led  off  to  another  town  as  George  Fox  was, 
often,  and  there  to  preach  or  prophesy  or  exhort 
without  knowing  why ;  to  be  moved  to  go  to  a 
particular  person,  perhaps  an  entire  stranger, 
and  under  an  irresistible  impulse,  begin  to 
talk  to  that  person  on,  let  us  say,  matrimonial 
infelicity,  and  gradually  bring  the  subject  nearer 
and  nearer  home  to  his  own  treatment  of  his 
wife ;  then  boldly  to  accuse  him  of  such  ill- 
treatment  of  her  and  to  lecture  him  into 
shame  of  himself  until  he  acknowledged  his 
fault,  and  was  struck  with  wonder  at  the  possi 
bility  of  his  accuser  knowing  anything  of  the 
circumstances.  That  was  what  they  called  being 
led  by  the  spirit,  and  such  things  were  happen- 
39 


ENOCH    \VILLOUGIIBY 

ing,  they  believed,  constantly,  and  they  did  not 
consider  such  actions  insanity.  It  was  the 
spirit  come  upon  them.  They  had  seen  Uncle 
Allen  go  under  the  "influence"  in  their  early 
lives  as  children;  they  had  seen  him  begin  to 
twitch  and  move  about  uneasily  and  breathe 
heavily  and  then  finally  rise,  and  begin  to 
preach.  It  was  nothing.  Now  they  began  to 
think  it  was,  partly  at  least,  not  the  holy  spirit, 
but  spirits,  departed  spirits,  that  were  doing  it. 
It  was  Biblical  enough  to  believe  that,  and  these 
people  for  generations  were  steeped  in  the  very 
essence  of  the  Scriptures. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Enoch  would  use  the 
name  spiritualism  at  all,  and  Hannah  could  not 
bear  to  hear  it  even  mentioned  ;  it  gave  her  the 
cold  shivers.  But  they  began  to  hold  meetings, 
Enoch  and  Hannah,  and  the  children  if  they 
remained  awake,  and  Hannah's  younger  sister 
Lyddie,  and  her  brothers  Mose  and  Eck.  They 
did  not  call  them  circles  :  I  do  not  think  they 
had  heard  the  word  seance  yet ;  if  they  had,  they 
would  not  have  used  it.  They  called  them 
spiritual  meetings  or  sittings. 

They  held  them  now  frequently  after  Enoch's 
return,  and  he  was  almost  always  "  influenced." 
At  first  Hannah  struggled  against  them,  thought 
they  ought  not  to  have  the  children  in  them. 
To  tell  the  truth  she  had  a  secret  fear  lest  some 
thing  was  the  matter  with  Enoch's  mind,  and  yet 
40 


THE   VISION 

slie  would  not  have  mentioned  such  a  thing  for 
the  world.  She  overcame  her  feelings  as  well  as 
she  could,  kept  silent,  and  let  things  take  their 
course. 

For  Enoch,  at  first  at  any  rate,  these  were 
purely  religious  meetings  :  they  were  not  differ 
ent  from  the  silent  sittings  in  the  Quaker 
church;  the  effect  upon  him  was  much  the 
same,  and  afterward  there  was  the  same  inter 
est  in  discussing  what  he  had  been  led  to  say  or 
do  while  under  the  influence  as  there  had  been 
after  the  Quaker  meetings. 

These  were  very  strange  performances,  espe 
cially  for  the  violence  of  Enoch's  "  control."  Im 
agine  how  he  looked :  very  tall ;  dark  hair ;  blue 
eyes ;  fair  skin ;  long,  slender  hands  and  fingers ; 
— delicacy  and  power  combined.  Imagine  the 
children  seated  around  the  room  and  all  hold 
ing  hands  ;  a  very  serious  look  on  the  faces  of  all, 
and  fear  on  some.  And  then  imagine  Enoch 
going  under  the  "  influence  : "  the  hard  breath 
ing,  the  vacant  eye,  the  twitching  muscles,  the 
jerking  hands  or  knees,  and  then  perhaps  the 
hands  breaking  loose  and  beginning  to  pound 
the  knees  harder  and  harder,  or  the  knees  strik 
ing  together  violently,  the  feet  beginning  to 
shuffle  about,  the  mouth  to  draw  down  at  the 
corners,  with  all  imaginable,  singular  motions. 
Think  of  the  interest  and  wonder  and  fear 
in  the  childreus'  faces  and  even  in  Hannah's. 
41 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

And  then,  just  imagine  the  man  rising  and 
beginning  to  speak,  in  an  altogether  unnatural 
voice,  so  that  you  had  to  look  carefully  at  him 
to  be  sure  that  it  was  the  same  person  speaking 
whom  you  had  known,  and  then  hear  this  voice 
pass  into  terrible  wailing — I  know  not  what  else 
to  call  it — intense,  fearful,  awful.  There  is  no 
more  terrible  thing  in  the  world  than  a  human 
voice.  Imagine  the  shriek  of  terror,  the  cry  for 
help,  the  despairing  wail,  the  moan  of  anguish  ; 
all  of  these  put  into  a  little  close  room.  It  was 
fearful. 

These  trances  were  accompanied  by  cold  feet 
and  hands,  and  a  forehead  with  great  sweat- 
drops  standing  out  like  beads  upon  it;  some 
times  they  were  followed  by  a  kind  of  trance,  in 
which  the  man  lay  or  sat  like  one  dead,  and  yet 
he  did  not  suffer  in  them  at  all. 

The  first  time  they  had  one  of  these  sittings 
was  soon  after  Enoch  returned,  and  in  it  his 
"control  "  was  one  of  the  most  violent.  Toward 
the  last,  he  had  gone  through  the  action  of  be 
ing  crucified,  and  had  stood  with  arms  and  feet 
extended,  apparently  in  great  agony,  stiff  and 
moaning,  until  he  had  finally  sunk  to  the  floor 
and  lain  there  till  the  trance  passed  off. 

The  children  sobbed  and  asked  Hannah  if  ho 
was  dead.  She  knew  not  what  to  say  and  was 
almost  as  much  frightened  as  they  were.  Final 
ly  he  came  to  himself ;  and  rose  and  lay  down 


THE   VISION 

on  the  lounge,  exhausted.  The  children  were 
put  to  bed.  Mose  and  Eck  were  upstairs ;  and 
Lyddie  was  in  her  room,  but  too  much  afraid  to 
undress.  She  simply  lay  down  on  top  of  the 
bed,  pulled  the  cover  over  her  and  left  the  light 
burning.  The  smaller  children  went  to  sleep 
with  their  faces  pressed  close  against  each  other 
for  fear ;  and  even  Mose  and  Eck,  who  nearly 
always  had  a  scuffle  on  going  to  bed  and  pre 
tended  to  quarrel  if  they  so  much  as  touched 
one  another,  now  lay  as  close  together  as  two 
girls.  Hannah  sat  alone  watching  Enoch,  lying 
asleep.  Pretty  soon  he  awoke,  and  asked  her  if 
she  was  not  going  to  bed,  and  they  both  went 
to  bed  then. 

Enoch  almost  immediately  fell  asleep,  but 
Hannah  could  not  sleep.  She  lay  beside  him 
and  heard  him  breathe ;  and,  in  some  way,  a 
great,  sickening,  terrible  fear  came  over  her. 
She  did  not  know  what  it  was,  but  she  could  not 
lie  there.  Every  motion  of  the  form  near  her 
sent  a  shiver  through  her.  She  put  together  all 
the  strange  things  she  could  remember  of  him 
and  of  his  whole  family.  There  had  none  of 
them  gone  crazy ;  it  wasn't  that ;  but  there  was 
something.  She  could  not  bear  it. 

Slowly  and  carefully  she  got  up  so  as  not  to 

awaken  him  ;  she  drew  on  a  gown,  and  went  to 

the  children's  room  and   lay  down  beside  tho 

children.     She  felt  better ;  it  was  no  use  for 

43 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

her  to  try  to  sleep.  She  lay  there  and  fought 
with  her  thoughts  and  feelings  all  night  long, 
and  a  long  and  fearful  night  it  was. 

Toward  morning,  when  the  light  had  some 
what  scattered  her  fears,  she  got  up  and  quietly 
took  off  her  gown  and  lay  down  again  beside 
Enoch ;  and  when  he  awoke,  she  pretended  to 
awaken  also.  He  did  not  know  that  for  one 
night  his  wife  had  left  his  bed  and  board,  and 
had  been  for  those  few  hours,  in  thought  and 
feeling,  divorced  from  him.  But,  with  the 
light,  came  a  change  ;  a  feeling  of  peace  and 
security.  The  blessed  sunshine  had  driven  all 
that  storm  away.  The  very  clatter  of  the 
dishes,  as  Hannah  and  Lyddie  washed  them 
and  wiped  them  and  put  them  tip  after  break 
fast,  was  pleasant  and  cheerful.  Outside, 
Enoch  and  Mose  were  grinding  the  sickle,  pre 
paring  to  cut  hay.  It  was  all  gone ;  what  had  it 
been  anyway  ?  What  was  there  last  night  that 
made  her  lie  awake  the  whole  night  through 
in  the  children's  bed  ?  It  was  strange,  very 
strange  ;  but  whatever  it  was,  it  was  gone  now. 
She  got  some  old  newspapers,  and  she  and  Lyd 
die  cut  out  and  put  up  new  covers  for  the  pan 
try  shelves.  After  dinner  she  took  a  long  nap  ; 
and  that  evening  she  and  Enoch  went  over  and 
paid  a  visit  to  the  Cadwalladers,  and  called  on 
the  old  maids.  Hannah  forgot  everything. 
She  was  soriy  that  these  old  ladies  had  not 
44 


THE   VISION 

such  a  husband  as  she  had ;  and  as  they  came 
back  together,  she  and  Enoch,  they  were  as 
playful  and  loving  as  they  used  to  be  away 
back  in  Ohio  in  the  days  of  their  courtship,  and 
Enoch  had  his  arm  about  her. 

But  though  the  sun  might  expel  the  clouds 
for  a  time,  they  would  come  again ;  and  the 
very  next  night  there  was  another  experience. 
This  time  there  was  little  preparation  for  it. 
Enoch  had  been  more  or  less  silent  at  noon 
when  in  the  house,  and  was  so  still,  in  the 
evening.  A  little  of  that  same  feeling  of  op 
pressiveness  had  come  over  everyone  that  al 
ways  does  when  one  of  a  company  is  gloomy  or 
distressed. 

After  supper,  they  had  gathered  in  the  sit 
ting-room  when  Enoch  went  out.  Hannah  no 
ticed  him  carefully,  but  there  was  nothing  re 
markable  in  his  behavior.  He  remained  out  a 
long  time  ;  they  were  beginning  to  be  somewhat 
frightened,  and  Hannah  had  suggested  to  Eck 
that  he  go  and  see  what  Enoch  was  doing  at  the 
stable.  But  Eck  did  not  go  at  once — probably 
he  was  a  little  afraid  and  just  then  Enoch  came 
in. 

Everyone  saw  at  a  glance  something  had  hap 
pened.  He  was  pale  as  a  sheet,  and  seemed 
utterly  exhausted ;  at  first  he  could  not  speak, 
and  lay  down  on  the  bed.  All  in  the  room 
were  silent,  and  waited  until  he  could  tell  what 
45 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

was  the  matter.  Finally  he  told  them  he  had 
been  seized  and  beaten  by  a  spirit. 

It  was  useless  to  express  surprise  ;  the  man 
as  thoroughly  believed  wrhat  lie  was  saying  as  I 
believe  I  am  this  moment  holding  the  pen.  He 
had  gone  out  to  the  corn-crib  to  feed  the  horses, 
aiid  had  stooped  down  to  pick  up  the  corn  and 
put  it  in  the  basket.  Just  then  a  tall  and  pow 
erful  man  seized  him,  and  with  a  club  began 
beating  him  ;  saying  all  the  time  : 

"  I  will  teach  thee  to  deny  me,  I  will  teach 
thee  to  deny  me." 

He  continued  beating  him  until  at  last  he 
fell  down  exhausted  on  the  floor  of  the  crib  and 
became  unconscious. 

This  was  the  way  he  told  of  it  then,  and 
always  after  that ;  for  he  told  the  story  as  long 
as  he  lived  and  thoroughly  believed  it  himself. 
He  had,  it  seems,  been  pondering  whether  to 
acknowledge  the  name  of  spiritualism  or  not, 
and  could  not  make  up  his  mind.  It  was  a 
name  in  bad  repute,  and  he  loved  the  church  of 
his  fathers;  but  he  felt  compunction  for  be 
lieving  what  he  did  not  acknowledge.  Prob 
ably  this  compunction  had  increased  into  re 
morse,  for  he  had  the  imaginative  mind  that 
can  magnify  a  thousand  diameters  every  little 
thing,  and  this  remorse  may  have  produced  the 
effect.  But  he  believed  it  was  a  spirit  and  that 
he  had  been  punished,  and  had  learned  a  lesson. 
46 


THE   VISION 

Thereafter  he  called  himself  a  spiritualist 
openly  and  always,  even  when  the  odium  at 
tached  to  the  name  was  as  falsely  applied  to 
him  as  the  honor  attached  to  the  orthodoxy  of 
the  Friends'  Society  would  have  been.  The 
man  had  the  imagination  that  would  make  him 
throw  an  ink-stand  at  the  devil.  People,  invis 
ible  to  every  one  else,  came  in  and  spoke  to 
him ;  ideas  burst  upon  him  like  skyrockets, 
with  startling  force  and  with  all  the  individual 
ity  of  concrete  things.  They  were  not  the  in 
distinct,  misty,  brain -fog  they  are  to  some  peo 
ple  ;  but  to  him  had  actual  form,  color,  and 
sound. 

It  was  nothing  strange  for  him  to  leave  his 
work  in  the  field  and  return  to  the  house  in  the 
middle  of  the  morning,  because  some  idea  had 
come  to  him  with  such  force  and  clearness  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  go  up  and 
communicate  it  to  Hannah. 

Having  no  knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  lan 
guage,  except  that  which  was  forced  into  it  by 
the  connection  of  thought,  he  was  constantly 
surprised  by  having  words  that  he  had  used  in 
reading  without  knowing  their  meaning  sud 
denly  burst  open  into  significance.  For  days 
and  weeks  he  once  carried  the  word  "  identity  " 
about  with  him,  perhaps  in  his  subconscious- 
ness,  not  half  knowing  its  meaning ;  and  when 
the  meaning  came  to  him,  he  unhitched  the 

47 


ENOCH    WILLOUUHBY 

horses  and  came  to  the  house.  That  was 
enough  glory  for  one  day.  In  the  same  way, 
too,  his  dreams  were  clearer  than  those  of  most 
people ;  and  some  of  them  had  a  fashion  of  re 
peating  themselves  night  after  night  with  great 
er  and  greater  distinctness  until  they  pushed 
aside  reality  and  became  truer  to  him  than 
truth  itself. 

Certain  of  these  repeated  dreams  finally  seemed 
to  him  to  come  always  before  events  of  a  partic 
ular  character,  and  he  came  to  believe  that  they 
had  significance,  that  they  were  given  to  him  or 
sent  to  him  as  intimations  for  warning  or  advice. 
They  would  make  a  volume  of  literature  if  they 
were  written  down,  but  there  is  not  time  for  it. 
Other  events  must  be  shown. 


48 


VI 

A   FOLLOWER   OF  A   FOLLOWER 

THE  effect  of  a  life  like  this  upon  those  famil 
iar  with  it  wears  off  gradually.  As  soon  as  the 
strangeness  of  his  performances  was  gone,  there 
was  something  rather  interesting  about  them. 
They  varied  the  monotony  of  the  long  winter 
evenings,  and  they  gave  always  the  feeling  of 
uncertainty  or  mystery  to  everything.  Others  of 
the  family  wondered  if  they  could  act  like  that 
and  thought  something  of  trying  it.  Occasion 
ally  a  neighbor  dropped  in  and  saw  these  sit 
tings,  and  spread  accounts  of  them.  Enoch  and 
Hannah  went  to  meeting  as  regularly  as  ever, 
and  Enoch  had  by  no  means  lost  the  habit  of 
speaking  there,  but  now  the  Quakers  had  heard 
that  he  was  becoming  a  spiritualist  and  they 
began  to  notice  him  more  closely  and  to  show  a 
little  coolness. 

Hannah  observed  that  the  Friends  did  not 
visit  them  any  more,  that  there  was  not  the  same 
cordiality  on  the  meeting-house  porch  before 
and  after  meetings  as  formerly,  and  she  spoke  to 
Enoch  about  it;  but  she  might  as  well  have 
spoken  to  the  wind.  It  was  no  use  to  urge  him 
49 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

to  say  nothing  about  his  new  theories  until  he 
had  examined  them  further.  He  was  like  a  child 
that  has  found  something  new.  He  must  go  and 
show  it  to  everybody.  He  talked  to  all  of  the 
Friends  about  it,  as  far  as  he  could  get  them  to 
discuss  the  matter,  and  he  was  surprised  and 
hurt  to  find  that  they  would  turn  away  without 
interest.  Some  even  said  pretty  severe  things 
to  him.  It  was  hinted  that  he  might  possibly 
have  an  evil  spirit.  They  shut  him  off  in  the 
meeting  all  they  could  without  noticeably  offend 
ing  him. 

Enoch  felt  intensely  humiliated.  This  greatest 
glory  that  had  ever  come  to  him,  was  then  of 
the  devil,  was  it  ?  He  was  a  false  prophet,  de 
ceived  by  Satan,  and  himself  deceiving  the  elect, 
was  he  ?  He  studied  over  this  phase  of  it  for 
months.  He  asked  himself  in  all  humility  if  he 
was  self-deceived,  and  he  found  the  best  answer 
a  man  can  find ;  he  had  to  believe  in  himself, 
and  he  said,  "No,  he  was  not."  Then  he  went 
on  in  the  same  way.  His  reputation  for  strange 
and  gruesome  things  spread  in  the  neighbor 
hood  ;  the  coolness  increased  between  him  and 
the  Friends  and  most  other  orthodox  people 
round  about,  and  the  more  this  grew,  the  more 
Enoch  Willoughby  tried  to  right  himself  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world  by  uprightness  and  moral  liv 
ing.  That  became  a  sort  of  mania  with  him  too, 
and  in  that  he  succeeded.  His  reputation  for 
50 


A  FOLLOWER  OF  A  FOLLOWER 

honesty  became  fixed  and  secure.  Some  people 
even  took  advantage  of  it,  and  then  eased  their 
consciences  by  saying  he  was  only  an  old  spir 
itualist. 

For  society,  he  chose  those  people  who  would 
listen  to  his  theories,  and  these  were,  of  course, 
those  who  had  none  themselves ;  the  ignorant, 
the  curious ;  people  from  the  woods  district ;  the 
family  got  a  bad  reputation,  much  worse  than  it 
deserved.  And  all  this  time  Enoch  studied  the 
Bible  and  filled  himself  with  it,  especially  with 
its  spiritual  portions;  the  story  of  Elias,  the 
Gospels,  and  Acts,  and  the  entire  life  of  Paul 
and  his  teachings.  There  was  no  one  in  the 
country  that  knew  anything  at  all  about  it  com 
pared  to  him. 

The  preachers  of  the  Quaker  meeting  and  of 
other  churches  in  the  region  avoided  him,  and 
would  not  enter  into  a  discussion  with  him.  They 
had  not  time,  and  even  if  they  had  been  able  by 
study  to  overcome  him  in  argument,  which  is 
doubtful,  it  would  have  required  months  to  pre 
pare  for  such  a  combat.  The  Bible  is  full  of 
spiritual  things,  and  that  man  believed  them  and 
thought  he  understood  them;  he  believed  in 
Christ  and  his  spiritual  resurrection,  and  in  the 
after  life  of  all  mankind ;  he  believed  in  God ;  he 
believed  in  good  and  bad  spirits ;  he  believed  in 
the  power  of  the  spiritual  world  about  him,  and 
that  made  him  believe  all  the  miraculous  in  it ; 
51 


ENOCH    WILLOUG1IBY 

but  he  was  queer ;  he  could  not  help  it ;  he  came 
by  it  naturally,  and  he  had  to  suffer  the  con 
sequences  of  it,  I  suppose. 

Enoch  Willoughby  had  one  follower,  even  now. 
You  will  never  find  a  man  of  ideas  without  some 
followers,  but  one  would  be  surprised  to  know 
who  this  was.  It  was  Lyddie.  These  children 
all  liked  their  elder  brother  Enoch ;  he  was  like 
a  father  to  them,  good  and  kind  always.  Re 
strained  by  his  mental  disposition  from  all  un 
due  familiarity,  he  held  their  respect.  Lyddie, 
as  we  have  said,  was  a  beautiful  yourig  girl,  im 
pressionable,  with  eyes  gentle  and  affectionate 
and  she  experienced  something  in  those  evening 
meetings,  enough  to  make  her  believe  there  was 
more  than  mere  imagination  in  them. 

They  did  not  encourage  the  children  to  sit 
with  them  ;  but  Lyddio  was  now  a  woman  and 
accustomed  to  doing  very  much  as  she  pleased, 
and  she  frequently  did  take  part.  The  first 
time  they  ever  knew  of  her  being  "  influenced  " 
was  one  day  after  a  meeting  the  night  before. 
Lyddie  with  the  rest  of  the  children  had  gone 
out  to  the  plum  thicket  to  gather  plums ;  there, 
suddenly,  the  girl  was  seized  upon  by  the 
power  of  the  spirit,  and  under  the  influence, 
gathered  the  children  together  and  preached  to 
them.  Then  she  led  them  to  the  house  in  great 
wonder,  and  there  gathered  the  other  members 
of  the  household  together  and  preached  to  them 
52 


also.  It  was  a  very  strange  performance  in  a 
young  girl,  and  might  be  incredible  if  one  did 
not  consider  the  strong  spiritual  influence  that 
surrounded  the  whole  family  all  the  time.  They 
lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  it,  and  could  not  get 
away  from  it.  After  this,  for  a  time,  Lyddie 
would  be  influenced  at  these  meetings  and 
speak;  but  Hannah  did  not  encourage  it,  nor 
did  Enoch  think  it  best  for  so  young  a  girl  to 
give  herself  up  to  that  kind  of  spirituality.  He 
used  to  apply  the  words  of  Paul,  "  When  I  was 
a  child,  I  spake  as  a  child,"  and  so  forth,  to  her 
case. 

So  Lyddie  did  not  become  a  spiritual  medium 
at  all,  but  she  had  had  experiences  enough  to 
prevent  her  censuring  Enoch  Willoughby's 
actions  or  theories,  or  feeling  afraid  of  him. 
She  believed  in  him,  liked  him,  and  respected 
him,  and  nothing  used  so  to  arouse  her  indigna 
tion  as  to  hear,  as  she  did  constantly,  when  she 
was  away  from  home,  those  hints  and  allusions 
to  his  bad  influence.  Some  people  actually 
believed  that  the  Willoughby  house  was  pos 
sessed  ;  that  there  were  ghosts  there  and 
demons.  Many  people  were  afraid  to  go  along 
the  road  by  it ;  and  many  people  avoided  the 
Willoughbys  themselves  as  though  they  had 
some  contagion  about  them.  Such  a  feeling 
cements  family  ties  more  closely.  They  all  felt 
that  Enoch  was  unjustly  accused,  that  people 
53 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

did  not  know  him,  that  little  things  were  magni 
fied  in  his  case,  and  Lyddie  in  particular  had 
said  in  her  heart,  she  would  never  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  any  one  who  thought  that. 

Now  Lyddie  could  not  help  being  as  sweet 
and  gentle  as  the  whole  O'Mara  nature  com 
bined  could  make  her,  and  when  she  went  to 
the  Quaker  meeting  in  those  early  days  and  sat 
rapt  in  attention  to  some  spiritual  speaker,  or 
held  by  the  charm  of  the  meeting's  silence,  there 
was  something  about  her  eyes  that  caught  Will 
iam  Olney  Price  and  held  him,  he  did  not  know 
how;  there  was  something  about  her  face  and 
her  whole  action  that  he  could  not  get  out  of  his 
mind.  He  had  hardly  spoken  to  her.  She  was 
a  country  girl  and  lived  seven  miles  away  from 
the  village.  She  was  an  orphan  and  had  noth 
ing.  She  had  been  brought  up  by  charity  and 
by  a  rather  singular  family.  William  Olney 's 
father  was  the  head  of  the  meeting  and  its 
principal  support.  He  was  the  wealthiest  man 
in  the  village,  and  perhaps  the  man  of  the  least 
spirituality.  He  was  of  the  old  Providence 
Quakers,  grounded  in  respectability  and  tradi 
tion,  with  only  one  son,  whom  he  was  counting 
on  to  become  the  heir  to  his  fortune,  and  then 
the  founder  of  a  family  here  in  the  West,  which 
should  by  its  success  more  than  outweigh  that 
fault  of  being  Westerners. 

It  was  the  same  old  story,  for  here  was 
54 


A  FOLLOWEK  OF  A  FOLLOWER 

William  Olney  with  the  face  of  Lyddie  O'Mara 
already  settling  in  his  mind. 

This  was  about  the  time  when  Enoch  and 
Hannah  began  to  feel  the  increasing  coolness  of 
the  Friends  and  to  find  excuses  more  and  more 
for  not  going  to  meeting.  It  now  not  infre 
quently  looked  like  rain,  or  they  got  up  late  in 
the  morning  and  it  was  so  far  away.  And 
young  William  Olney  Price  made  all  haste  to 
meeting  First  day  mornings  and  watched  every 
new-comer  and  listened  as  every  wagon  drove 
up,  but  no  one  came.  So  he  watched  First  day 
after  First  day,  and  once  suggested  to  his  father 
that  the  Willoughbys  did  not  come  to  meeting 
now  any  more.  His  father  told  him  he  feared 
they  were  drifting  away  from  the  church,  and 
would  perhaps  have  to  be  dealt  with  by  the 
meeting,  and  perhaps  it  was  just  as  well  they 
should  not  come.  Sometimes  even  when  they 
did  come  Lyddie  stayed  away  purposely.  She 
felt  and  knew  that  there  had  been  a  gaze  fas 
tened  on  her  in  meeting,  and  she  knew  whose  it 
was.  She  did  not  have  to  see  with  her  eyes, 
she  had  had  that  very  person  in  mind  when  she 
had  said,  "I  shall  never  have  anything  to  do 
with  one  who  thinks  of  us  as  I  know  Will 
iam  Price  does."  She  did  not  want  to  go  to 
meeting  any  more.  She  had  heard  that  William 
Price  was  close  and  exacting  ;  that  he  was  mak 
ing  money,  and  was  even  then  said  to  be  rich, 
55 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

and  it  repelled  her.  She  did  not  want  to  know 
those  people  better  ;  she  had  an  idea  there  was 
something  hard  and  cold  about  them.  She  put 
them  off  in  imagination  into  an  entirely  different 
world ;  thought  of  them  as  a  different  class  of 
human  beings  from  her.  She  wished  they  would 
not  come  to  meeting.  She  thought  they  spoiled 
the  sweet  peace  she  used  to  feel  there.  She 
never  liked  to  look  at  Rachel  Price  when  she 
came  into  the  meeting-house,  for  she  seemed 
always  to  have  unpleasant  thoughts  from  it. 
And  William  Price,  the  father,  she  thought  stiff 
and  formal.  Poor  William  Olney !  I  am 
afraid  his  eyes  roved  in  the  wrong  direction  this 
time. 

William  Olney  occasionally  rode  out  from 
the  village  and  passed  the  Willoughby  house. 
If  he  had  gone  boldly  in,  it  would  not  have 
been  out  of  the  way  at  all.  The  neighborhood 
was  not  large,  and  every  one  in  it  was  some 
what  acquainted  with  every  one  else.  He  knew 
the  Willoughbys,  and  his  father  and  mother 
knew  them.  It  is  tme  it  was  a  rather  formal 
acquaintance,  for  both  families  instinctively  felt 
they  were  different  from  each  other.  The 
young  man  could  not  help  wondering  what  his 
father  and  mother  would  say  if  he  should  go  to 
see  Lyddie  O'Mara. 

He  thought  this  all  over  as  he  rode  past  the 
house,  rather  hoping  ho  might  at  least  see 
56 


A  FOLLOWER   OF   A   FOLLOWER 

Lyddie.  He  had  some  idea  of  going  in,  and 
wished  he  might  find  some  reasonable  excuse 
for  it ;  but  as  none  presented  itself  he  deter 
mined  to  wait  until  some  better  opportunity 
arose.  Perhaps  when  the  Willoughbys  came  to 
meeting  again,  he  would  find  some  way  of  be 
coming  better  acquainted  with  her. 


57 


VII 

IN  THE  MEETING-HOUSE 

UNPLEASANT  as  well  as  agreeable  scenes  must 
be  described  sometimes,  because  other  events 
depend  upon  them.  If  it  were  not  so,  we  should 
gladly  omit  what  is  to  come  now. 

The  Willoughbys  came  to  meeting  again  at 
last  and  Lyddie  with  them.  They  were  still 
members  in  good  standing,  and  very  respectable 
people.  They  loved  this  old  Quaker  meeting ; 
and  while  Enoch  had  not  been  encouraged  to 
go  out  as  a  preacher,  there  was  no  reason  why 
he  should  not  speak  in  the  meeting  at  home  if 
the  spirit  moved  him,  and  that  it  was  pretty 
sure  to  do. 

It  was  altogether  too  sure,  Hannah  felt ;  and 
Lyddie  and  she  now  were  almost  afraid  to  go  to 
meeting.  What  if  one  of  those  spells  should 
come  on  him  there  such  as  he  had  at  home  ? 
What  would  people  in  meeting  do  if  such  a 
spirit  should  come  over  him  ?  It  was  too  dread 
ful  to  think  of,  and  they  put  it  out  of  their 
thoughts.  But  they  were  all  afraid.  Even 
Enoch  himself  prayed  in  his  heart  he  might  not 
be  the  one  by  whom  the  offence  was  to  come.  It 
58 


IN  THE  MEETING-HOUSE 

was  with  this  feeling  over  them  that  they  came 
to  meeting  one  day  and  sat  down  in  that  same 
old  beautiful  silence.  We  may  be  sure  William 
Olney  was  there,  but  Lyddie  had  resolutely  failed 
to  see  him  or  even  to  allow  herself  to  feel  his 
gaze  fastened  upon  her.  Oh,  if  they  only  got 
safely  out  of  it !  If  Enoch  could  only  control 
himself ! 

I  do  not  know  what  in  the  world  possessed 
the  man,  when  he  knew  the  unpleasantness  of 
his  manner,  to  allow  himself  ever  to  speak, — 
unless  it  be  that  his  own  theories  about  it  were 
correct.  He  was  like  Paul,  who  was  a  Pharisee 
and  believed  in  the  resurrection,  but  who,  like 
his  fellow-religionists,  had  put  the  belief  away 
out  of  his  life  as  an  indefinite,  intangible  truth, 
without  any  practical  bearing,  good  enough  to 
believe  in,  but  not  capable  of  any  proof  or  dem 
onstration  ;  for  whom  then,  after  his  conver 
sion,  the  other  life  became  a  living  reality  and 
whose  attempt  to  prove  to  his  fellow-religion 
ists  what  they  themselves  believed,  made  him 
an  offence. 

"  Would  I  of  my  own  accord,  Hannah,"  Enoch 
asked,  "  rise  up  before  our  old  congregation 
and  make  myself  an  object  of  ridicule  ?  Such  a 
thing  is  not  to  be  believed  of  any  one  ;  then,  if  I 
do  so,  they  must  believe  that  I  am  not  acting 
of  myself,  but  of  the  spirit." 

It  was  a  good  explanation  and  satisfied  his 
59 


ENOCII    WILLOUCJIIBY 

need  of  a  reasonable  theory;  but  it  could 
hardly  satisfy  the  members  of  his  own  family, 
who  loved  him  and  respected  him,  and  could 
not  bear  to  see  him  make  himself  an  object  of 
ridicule.  But  it  had  to  be. 

The  moment  he  rose  every  one  looked  at 
him.  He  went  through  the  same  singular 
actions.  There  was  that  contraction  of  the 
muscles  of  the  face  that  indicated  a  violent 
"control."  Lyddie  leaned  her  head  down  on 
her  hands,  unable  to  look  at  him,  and  Hannah 
hardly  knew  which  way  to  turn  or  what  to  do. 

When  he  spoke,  there  was  that  tone  in  his 
voice  that  she  dreaded.  First  he  prayed,  and 
the  meeting  waited  till  ho  was  through  ;  but  the 
spirit  had  not  yet  left  him  ;  when  then  he  pro 
ceeded  to  speak,  the  voice  was  so  strange,  so  un 
pleasant  that  uncle  William  Price,  who  sat  at 
the  head  of  the  meeting,  felt  it  a  kindness  to 
him  and  every  one  else  to  break  meeting  and  did 
so,  leaning  over  and  shaking  hands  with  his 
next  neighbor,  who  sat  with  him  on  the  high 
bench  at  the  head  of  the  men's  side. 

The  meeting  was  broken  up,  and  people  were 
free  to  go  out ;  but  Enoch  had  not  yet  ceased. 
He  seemed  to  be  almost  unconscious  of  what 
was  going  on,  and  continued  speaking  for  some 
time.  Even  after  Hannah  rushed  up  to  him, 
took  hold  of  him  and  spoke  to  him,  it  was  some 
time  before  she  could  call  him  back  out  of  his 
60 


IN  THE  MEETING-HOUSE 

trance.  And  poor  Lyddie  was  sitting  with  her 
face  covered,  concealing  her  emotions  as  well  as 
she  could. 

When  Enoch  finally  ceased  speaking,  Lyddie 
looked  up;  there  was  no  one  in  the  meeting 
house  but  herself  and  Hannah  and  Enoch,  who 
had  now  come  out  from  under  the  influence. 

When  they  went  out  on  the  porch,  most  peo 
ple  had  gone ;  and  the  few  that  remained  seemed 
rather  to  avoid  them  and  did  not  come  up  and 
speak  to  them.  They  were,  however,  becom 
ing  rather  accustomed  to  this,  and  were  all  the 
more  surprised  that  as  they  were  about  to  go 
away  young  William  Olney  Price  came  up  to 
Enoch,  and  reached  out  and  shook  hands  with 
him.  He  then  spoke  to  Hannah  and  Lyddie 
and  shook  hands  with  them ;  which  should  not 
have  surprised  any  one,  as  it  was  the  custom 
for  every  one  to  shake  hands  after  meeting. 
Now,  however,  it  was  a  little  surprising  to 
Enoch  and  Hannah. 

They  talked  of  it  afterward. 

"  Did  thee  notice,"  Hannah  asked,  "  that 
young  William  Olney  Price  was  the  only  one  in 
the  meeting  who  came  up  after  thee  wrestled 
with  the  spirit,  and  spoke  to  us  ?  " 

Enoch  had  noticed  it,  and  wondered  at  it  a 
little. 

Now  these  people  did  not  consider  that  any 
great  harm  had  been  done.  Enoch  Willoughby 
61 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

felt  humiliated  sometimes  that  he  did  not  speak 
and  pray  in  a  becoming  manner,  but  this  very 
action  was  consistent  with  his  theories  and  sub 
stantiated  them.  He  did  wish  sincerely  that 
the  spirit  might  come  upon  him  with  unction 
and  cause  him  to  act  and  speak  in  a  pleasing 
way ;  but  if  it  would  not,  he  could  not  help  it. 
He  had  to  try  the  spirits,  he  said,  using  the  Bib 
lical  explanation  as  he  always  did  in  support  of 
his  claim  ;  and  further  he  used  to  say  the  King 
dom  of  Heaven  was  like  a  net  cast  into  the  sea, 
in  which  fishes  of  the  most  diverse  kinds  are  lia 
ble  to  be  caught ;  but  he  saAv  that  until  a  more 
gracious  or  pleasing  spirit  could  be  induced  to 
come  upon  him,  it  would  be  better  for  him  not 
to  go  to  meeting,  but  to  practise  his  develop 
ment  at  home. 

It  might  even  be  an  evil  spirit ;  he  could  not 
deny  the  possibility;  but  he  never  thought  of 
giving  up  the  whole  subject  and  turning  to  the 
things  of  this  life  alone  and  caring  for  them 
only.  That  would  have  been  to  turn  his  back 
on  the  spirit  world,  which  was  to  him  the  whole 
of  religion.  It  meant  the  power  of  God,  the 
future  life,  the  resurrection  of  Jesus,  and  possi 
bility  of  all  miracles  on  which  the  whole  struct 
ure  was  built ;  and  besides,  he  never  forgot 
those  words  he  had  heard  in  the  corn-crib  that 
night  he  was  beaten  to  death  in  spirit :  "  I  will 
teach  thee  to  deny  me."  Paul's  conversion  on 
62 


IN   THE  MEETING-HOUSE 

the  way  to  Damascus  was  not  more  vivid  and 
real  to  him  than  was  his  to  Enoch  Willoughby. 
I  really  believe  the  man  thought  it  would  be  bet 
ter  to  have  occasional  communications  with  an 
evil  spirit,  and  know  thus  that  there  was  a  spir 
itual  world  around  us  and  about  us,  than  to  be 
entirely  shut  away  from  such  knowledge. 

It  is  true  he  began  now  to  turn  more  and  more 
to  argument,  though  in  that  he  was  not  much 
more  successful  than  in  his  inspiration.  While 
there  was  not  the  same  queerness  manifested, 
there  was  in  all  his  reasoning  a  quiet  assump 
tion  of  authority,  of  personal  knowledge  and  ex 
perience,  that  others  generally  could  not  or 
would  not  assume  ;  and  while  this  very  thing, 
with  the  uneducated  and  ignorant,  gave  him 
power  and  influence  among  the  opposite  class 
it  aroused  opposition.  It  was  not  very  long  be 
fore  Enoch  Willoughby  was  set  over  against  the 
whole  Quaker  meeting,  and  the  whole  Quaker 
meeting  was  set  over  against  him. 

Now,  if  it  were  possible,  it  would  be  well  to 
give  some  idea  of  the  extent  to  which  religion, 
we  will  not  say  superstition — those  who  want  to 
may  say  that — entered  into  the  life  of  this  house 
hold.  They  lived,  all  of  them,  in  the  very  arms 
of  an  invisible  world,  under  the  eye  of  good  and 
bad  spirits.  The  conversation  at  table,  at  work, 
in  the  evening,  assumed  the  presence  of  such  a 
thing  ;  and  again  and  again  we  must  mention  the 
63 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

Biblo  ;  it  bad  been  the  spiritual  food  of  the 
whole  family  for  generations,  and  it  was  as 
though  it  were  all  being  concentrated  now  in 
this  one  time  and  place.  If  one  of  the  children 
of  that  household  now,  after  fifty  years  have 
passed,  would  but  turn  his  thoughts  back  to  that 
time,  to  that  house  in  the  woods,  and  to  those 
surroundings,  and  open  the  ear  of  his  spirit  to 
the  conversation  there,  he  would  hear  more  of 
the  Scripture  in  recollection  than  has  collected 
in  his  mind  during  all  the  long  interval  since. 
And  a  kindness  and  gentleness  and  a  sweet 
hope  were  perennial  in  that  family;  for  them 
life  was  not  stale  and  unprofitable  and  barren, 
but  was  always  a  fresh  and  vigorous  prepara 
tion  for  something  better.  And  yet  this  man 
now  became  what  Paul  was  to  the  Jews  and 
even  to  his  own  sect  of  the  Pharisees,  a  dese- 
crator  of  the  temple,  a  perverter  of  morals,  a 
weakener  of  the  church. 

The  house  in  which  he  lived  became  known 
as  a  haunted  house ;  the  man  himself  was  soon 
generally  called  "  Old  Enoch  Willoughby,"  and 
some  added,  "the  old  spiritualist,"  and  some 
"  the  old  atheist,"  and  some  the  "  old  infidel ;  " 
and  all  of  this,  I  am  sure,  grew  out  of  nothing 
but  a  little  queerness. 

Then  came  the  investigating  committee,  sent 
out  from  the  meeting  to  consider  Enoch's  sound 
ness  or  unsoundness  of  doctrine,  an  event  that 
64 


IN  THE  MEETING-HOUSE 

for  the  family  was  like  the  coming  of  a  great 
accident,  a  cataclysm  of  nature,  an  earthquake 
or  a  tornado  that  rends  the  earth  asunder  or 
lays  the  house  low  and  leaves  ruin  in  hearts 
and  homes. 

"  Verily,  I  come  not  to  bring  peace,  but  the 
sword ;  "  and  so  it  will  always  be  with  the  com 
ing  of  the  spirit,  of  which  Christ  was  the  great 
est  type  ;  "  for  the  natural  man  knoweth  not 
the  things  of  the  spirit,  neither  can  he  know." 


VIII 

"WILLIAM  OLNEY" 

THIS  last  coming  of  the  Willoughbys  to  the 
Quaker  meeting  had  not  improved  young  Will 
iam  Olney's  case  ;  on  the  contrary  it  had  been 
like  the  second  stroke  of  the  hammer  on  the 
head  of  the  nail.  The  sight  of  Lyddie  in  tears, 
that  day  in  the  meeting-house,  had  made  a 
great  impression  on  him.  Now,  in  his  fancy, 
he  would  see  her  face,  resting  demurely  under 
her  Quaker  bonnet,  and  get  the  look  of  those 
deep  soft  eyes ;  and  then  in  a  moment,  the  head 
would  lean  forward,  and  he  would  hear  a  little 
sob  ;  or  he  would  see  a  film  gather  over  the 
eyes  and  concentrate  into  drops,  and  stand  like 
pearls  on  the  eyelids  until  they  fell.  The 
sweet  orphan  girl,  sobbing  in  church,  was  some 
thing  he  could  not  get  out  of  his  mind  for  a 
single  moment. 

He  was  glad  he  had  gone  up  and  spoken  to 
her  and  her  people  ;  he  had  been  almost  afraid 
to  do  so  for  fear  it  might  look  like  pity  or  mis 
placed  sympathy  on  his  part.  But  he  had 
shown  his  friendliness,  they  certainly  could  not 
mistake  that. 

66 


"WILLIAM  OLNEY" 

And  it  had  been  shown  in  another  way  also. 
He  had  found  means  of  becoming  better  ac 
quainted  with  Mose  and  Eck,  Lyddie's  brothers. 
He  had  been  with  them  several  times,  and  it 
would  not  be  very  noticeable  now  if  he  should 
go  out  to  their  house  to  see  them.  It  is  sin 
gular  what  ways  other  than  the  straightforward 
one  a  young  fellow  in  love  will  take.  The  first 
time  he  went  he  did  not  see  Lyddie  at  all,  but 
stopped  at  the  gate  leading  into  the  yard,  sat 
on  his  horse  awhile  and  talked  with  Mose,  the 
younger  of  the  boys.  Finally  Eck  saw  them  and 
came  up,  and  a  game  of  quoits  was  proposed. 
William  Olney  dismounted  and  pitched  horse 
shoes  with  the  boys  awhile  and  then  went 
away. 

I  do  not  know  how  he  brought  it  about ; 
it  is  all  too  long  ago,  and  one  forgets  all  the 
twists  and  turns  of  that  kind  of  thing.  Did 
any  one  ever  observe  two  little  children  becom 
ing  acquainted — how  oddly  they  look  at  each 
other,  and  how  stiff  and  awkward  they  seem  ; 
till  suddenly  it  is  all  over;  you  look  up  and 
they  are  playing  together  as  though  they  had 
known  each  other  for  years.  It  was  by  a  good 
deal  such  "  windlasses  and  assays  of  bias"  that 
young  William  Olney  became  acquainted  with 
Lyddie.  But  it  was  done  in  one  way  or  an 
other,  and  the  first  thing  we  know  he  was  rid 
ing  out  there  frequently  to  see  her. 
67 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

He  became  recognized  now  as  Lyddie's  com 
pany.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  awkwardness 
in  knowing  just  what  to  do  with  him.  It  was 
difficult  to  treat  him  with  the  proper  amount  of 
indifference ;  he  threw  a  kind  of  restraint  upon 
the  family.  No  one  knew  just  what  to  say 
when  he  was  about,  and  it  was  hardest  of  all 
for  Lyddie  to  get  on  with  him. 

But  this  stiffness  and  reserve  which  his  com 
ing  always  produced,  he  did  not  at  all  notice. 
Ho  had  been  brought  up  in  such  an  atmosphere, 
and  found  everything  here  comparatively  free. 
Every  one  in  this  household  did  much  as  ho 
pleased  and  had  an  individuality  of  his  own 
that  was  rather  surprising  to  him. 

At  home  as  a  boy  he  had  been  kept  under 
strict  control,  taught  to  show  obedience,  and 
respect  for  his  elders,  and  observance  of  forms 
of  all  kinds.  His  books  had  been  carefully  se 
lected  for  him  as  well  as  his  playmates.  He 
had  been  held  closely  to  the  old-fashioned, 
strictly  orthodox  notions  of  life  ;  had  not  been 
allowed  to  whistle  or  even  sing  about  the  house, 
or  speak  above  a  certain  pitch ;  had  been 
dressed  regularly  on  First  Day  mornings  for 
Sunday-school  and  meetings,  and  the  rest  of 
the  day  been  kept  pretty  closely  in  the  com 
pany  of  his  father  and  mother,  and  the  elderly 
people  whom  they  might  happen  to  visit,  until 
he  learned  to  dread  Sundays,  to  dislike  the 
68 


"WILLIAM   OLNEY" 

Sunday-schools,  to  yawn  and  even  fall  asleep 
when  the  Quaker  women  were  preaching ;  and 
found  life,  as  a  boy,  rather  dull  and  tame. 
Then,  when  he  came  to  go  to  college,  it  was  not 
better,  for  at  Providence  he  was  put  under  the 
charge  of  an  elderly  uncle,  his  father's  brother, 
whose  household  had  been  somewhat  on  the 
same  order. 

While  there  was  perhaps  no  great  life  pulsing 
in  the  boy,  he  longed  for  a  little  of  its  bright 
side  and  colors.  He  might  have  had  no  music 
in  himself,  but  he  was  moved  by  concord  of 
sweet  sounds.  He  would  hardly  have  dared  to 
acknowledge  it,  but  the  sound  of  a  violin  stirred 
him  in  a  way  he  could  not  account  for.  He 
liked  ruddy  faces,  red  hair,  and  bright  eyes. 
His  sister,  older  than  he,  was  pale  always,  and 
thin ;  a  copy  of  his  mother,  who  had  a  stately, 
dignified  way  about  her  that  harmonized  per 
haps  with  the  Quaker  drabs  and  dull  blacks 
which  she  wore.  He  had  been  used  to  this  and 
he  wanted  the  opposite.  He  would  have  liked 
just  once  to  put  on  a  red  necktie  and  tan  col 
ored  boots,  to  see  how  they  would  feel ;  but  he 
would  hardly  have  ventured  it.  He  plugged 
away  at  his  Latin  and  Greek  and  mathematics, 
and  hoped  the  time  might  come  when  the  folks 
at  home  would  be  satisfied  he  had  done  enough 
of  them.  He  had  good  prospects,  but  he  cared 
little  about  them ;  he  would  be  rich  some  day, 
69 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

but  he  had  not  come  to  the  consideration  of 
that  matter  yet.  He  was  an  obedient  boy  to 
his  mother  and  sister,  a  dutiful  son  of  his  fa 
ther,  a  student  who  never  broke  rules.  He  was 
a  birth-right  member  of  the  Quaker  meeting,  of 
course,  and  that  was  in  the  days  before  any  for 
mal  confirmation  was  thought  necessary.  And 
if  his  father  and  mother  ever  thought  of  him  at 
all  as  likely  to  marry,  they  would  have  sup 
posed  of  course  he  would  defer  to  their  wishes 
in  the  matter. 

It  is  likely  he  never  in  his  life  opposed  his 
parents  in  any  way  until  he  saw  Lycldie  O'Mara 
and  fell  in  love  with  her.  Then  it  seemed  as  if 
all  the  humility  and  submission  of  his  nature 
had  changed  into  obstinacy  and  determination. 
He  suddenly  cared  for  nothing  else  in  the  world 
but  that  girl,  and  everything  that  surrounded 
her  seemed  to  be  just  what  he  liked.  The  very 
touch  of  the  hand  of  these  people  in  some  way 
was  different. 

He  did  not  give  himself  an  account  of  all  these 
things,  but  he  felt  like  one  who  has  been  frozen 
up  and  is  being  thawed  out.  Even  in  the  mat 
ter  of  his  Biblical  education,  he  had  been  brought 
up  in  formality.  Though  he  had  read  the  Bible 
all  his  life,  he  found  that  he  knew  little  about  it. 
He  knew  the  geography  of  it ;  could  tell  where 
Samaria  and  Jerusalem  and  possibly  Antioch 
lay ;  a  few  of  its  uncertain  dates  had  been 


"WILLIAM  OLNEY" 

drilled  into  his  head,  and  he  knew  the  names 
of  the  books,  with  their  doubtful  authorship. 
But  when  he  came  to  hear  the  Bible  spoken, 
so  to  speak,  as  it  was  here,  its  expressions  in 
common  use,  he  found  that  he  really  knew 
nothing  at  all  about  the  spirit  of  the  book. 
Even  Lyddie  could  laugh  at  his  ignorance,  and 
he  liked  the  way  she  made  sport  of  him  for  it. 
He  did  not  think  it  possible  that  such  things 
as  trances  could  be  even  spoken  of  in  the 
Bible  ;  and  that  the  spirit  came  on  people  like 
a  rushing,  mighty  wind,  and  made  them  act 
strangely  and  talk  in  strange  languages,  he  had 
never  heard. 

Lyddie  said,  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye  :  "  He 
had  not  so  much  as  heard  whether  there  be 
any  Holy  Ghost."  It  amused  the  whole  fam 
ily  to  tease  him  and  show  him  how  little  he 
knew  about  these  matters,  and  to  wonder  what 
he  ever  studied  at  college  anyway. 

And  all  the  time  Lyddie  was  teasing  him  for 
his  lack  of  knowledge  of  Scriptural  spirituality, 
he  was  drinking  in  the  sight  of  her  gentle  eyes, 
the  rich  color  of  her  cheeks,  her  voice  that 
seemed  to  him  something  sweet  enough  to  melt. 
And  all  this  time  a  storm  was  brewing  for  him 
at  home ;  one  of  those  quiet  storms  with  no 
thunder,  no  lightning,  no  black  cloud  and  on 
coming  wrack  and  wind  and  dust  and  slamming 
shutters,  and  then,  after  all,  no  rain ;  but  one  of 
71 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

those  storms  that  come  up  by  a  gentle  east  wind 
in  a  clear  day,  and  about  to-morrow  high  up  in 
the  circumambient  air,  a  filmy  cirrus  cloud  be 
gins  to  form — the  sun  growrs  slightly  pale,  and 
the  sky  slightly  ringed  and  crossed  around  it, 
and  then  far  down  toward  the  horizon  the  cloud 
becomes  darker  and  thicker;  presently  a  few 
drops  fall,  then  more  and  more ;  rolls  of  distant, 
subdued,  conventional  thunder  are  heard  at 
proper  intervals ;  and  not  until  all  the  cisterns 
of  earth  are  filled  and  have  overflowed  does  this 
mild  and  unostentatious  storm  pass  away. 

That  was  the  kind  of  Quaker  thunder-storm 
young  "William  Olney  must  expect  to  encounter. 


72 


IX 

THE  VISIT   HOME 

EVERY  man  ought  to  have  some  business,  we 
suppose,  even  in  fiction;  and  with  all  Enoch 
Willoughby's  dreams  and  visions  and  general 
spirituality,  he  was  a  farmer  and  made  his 
money  mostly  through  cattle  raising.  Permit 
us  to  say  he  was  a  good  judge  of  cattle,  a  suc 
cessful  feeder,  and  could  give  offhand  the  weight 
of  a  steer  as  closely  as  any  other  man  in  the 
county.  He  took  pride  in  it  too.  But  his  good 
judgment  of  cattle  and  careful  purchases  of 
stock  to  stall-feed  in  the  fall  could  not  hinder 
his  making  mistakes  in  estimating  the  price  of 
corn  or  the  extent  of  the  growing  crop,  and 
one  winter  about  this  time  he  made  such  a 
mistake,  and  was  obliged  to  borrow  money  of 
William  Price  and  mortgage  the  place  to  save 
his  investment. 

During  that  winter,  Enoch  did  not  worry  about 
the  cattle  or  the  debt.  They  had  been  attended 
to ;  perhaps  things  would  come  out  right.  He 
had  done  the  best  he  could.  While  he  had 
some  leisure  time  in  the  long  winter,  he  might 
as  well  be  doing  something ;  so  he  turned  his 
73 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

attention  to  the  spirits  again.  His  theory 
grew  upon  him  ;  it  was  so  full  of  explanation,  so 
satisfactory.  He  explained  it  in  long  letters  to 
his  brothers  and  sisters  in  Ohio  and  Indiana, 
and  other  parts  of  the  West.  They  replied  at 
first  in  friendly,  admonitory  letters,  which 
gradually  grew  shorter,  then  indifferent,  and 
finally  curt. 

The  man  was  enthusiastic  and  full  of  ear 
nestness  and  repressed  zeal.  He  conceived  the 
desire  to  go  back  to  his  home  in  Ohio.  He 
wanted  to  talk  to  his  father  and  mother;  he 
wanted  to  show  his  newly  found  treasure,  for 
he  thought  he  had  found  something  just  as  truly 
as  the  man  who  picks  up  a  handful  of  diamonds 
from  the  bed  of  a  stream  is  sure  he  has  found 
value.  Hannah  tried  to  persuade  him  not  to 
go.  She  felt  sure  he  would  be  disappointed  ; 
besides,  she  did  not  like  to  be  left  out  there  in 
the  winter.  But  his  desire  was  so  great  that  he 
had  to  go  and  went. 

The  first  morning  after  he  reached  home, 
the  power  of  the  spirit  came  upon  him.  The 
first  thing  he  knew  he  was  seized  as  in  a  fit  of 
weeping,  and  began  to  cry  and  sob  so  that 
the  people  were  frightened.  They  asked  him 
what  was  the  matter,  but  he  told  them  he  did 
not  know.  He  walked  about  over  the  old 
place  from  room  to  room,  wringing  his  hands 
and  sobbing  and  moaning  while  the  tears 
74 


THE  VISIT  HOME 

ran  down  his  face.  It  was  as  if  the  man  were 
suffering  greatly.  The  noise  he  made,  too,  was 
considerable.  His  eldest  sister,  Anne,  followed 
him  about  and  carefully  closed  the  doors  after 
him,  to  keep  down  the  noise,  and  told  some  one 
to  stay  at  the  front  door  and  not  to  let  any  of  the 
neighbors  come  in.  In  fact,  the  Quaker  quiet 
of  that  old  Ohio  household  was  disturbed  as  it 
had  never  been  before. 

What  was  the  matter  with  the  man !  Grand 
mother  Margaret,  who  was  now  grown  pretty  old, 
said  that  he  had  the  spirit  on  him,  that  was  all ; 
said  she  had  had  quite  similar  experiences  when 
she  was  a  girl ;  that  he  wasn't  really  suffering  any 
thing;  that  it  was  only  the  spirit  weeping  and  wail 
ing.  What  puzzled  her  was  to  know  ivhy  it  had 
come.  Just  let  him  alone  and  it  would  leave  him 
in  due  time.  (And  that  old  lady  when  she  died  had 
as  many  as  seventy-five  different  gowns  stored  in 
the  various  closets  and  bureau-drawers  of  the 
house,  many  of  them  in  very  good  condition 
and  of  very  good  quality.  I  cannot  conceive 
why  one  should  recall  this  fact  now,  unless  it  is 
to  explain  how  the  spiritual  and  the  material 
can  go  side  by  side  in  the  same  individual  as  it 
was  doing  in  Enoch.)  She  had  prophesied  cor 
rectly  about  him  ;  he  came  out  of  it  after  awhile, 
though  not  until  he  had  gone  through  the  entire 
house,  and  out  of  the  yard  across  to  the  woods 
pasture.  There  he  remained  alone  for  perhaps  an 
75 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

hour,  and  when  the  spirit  left  him,  he  came  to  the 
house.  Grandmother  Margaret  had  been  right 
in  this,  too ;  he  had  not  suffered  a  particle.  He 
had  wondered  all  the  time  what  it  was  going  to 
do  with  him  next.  He  knew  it  was  the  spirit. 
And  now  he  began  to  try  to  interpret  its  coming 
just  as  one  would  a  dream.  They  talked  of 
what  it  could  mean,  but  they  all  knew  well 
enough,  and  not  even  Enoch  himself  could  bear 
to  mention  it.  It  was  the  spirit  bewailing  his 
separation  from  the  family  and  the  church. 
Enoch  knew  from  that  moment  his  mission 
would  be  in  vain,  but  he  had  to  go  on  and 
fulfil  it. 

He  began  to  explain  his  spiritualism.  He 
held  circles;  he  spoke  in  meeting  and  every 
where.  It  was  a  failure ; — not  but  that  the  spirit 
came  :  it  did,  and  with  power ;  but  they  said  it 
was  not  a  good  spirit.  They  said  it  was  not  the 
Holy  Spirit.  His  own  people  rather  hinted 
there  was  something  wrong  with  him.  It  is 
vain  for  a  man  in  such  a  case  to  call  up  his  life 
and  his  actions,  his  honesty,  his  godliness,  his 
sobriety.  Some  said  he  was  mad.  When  he 
spoke  at  the  old  Chester  meeting-house,  another 
scene  as  bad  as  that  in  Iowa  or  even  worse  than 
that  took  place ;  the  people  left  the  house.  The 
old  father  even,  a  man  of  such  peaceable  dis 
position  as  to  have  charity  for  the  devil  himself, 
advised  him  to  beware,  to  check  the  spirit  and 
76 


THE  VISIT  HOME 

control  himself.  At  times  Enoch  had  now  the 
deepest  humiliation  after  this  visit,  but  even 
this  humiliation  only  seemed  to  strengthen  him 
more  and  more  in  his  belief. 

When  he  went  home  in  the  Spring,  two 
famous  Quaker  preachers  —  Old  Uncle  Amos 
Hoag  was  one — came  along ;  and  before  it  was 
time  to  sell  the  cattle,  Enoch  took  them  in  his 
spring- wagon  to  Minneapolis.  It  required  over 
three  weeks,  and  this  was  a  time  of  infinite  sat 
isfaction  to  him.  He  lived  in  deep  spiritual 
converse,  night  and  day.  One  of  the  preachers 
sympathized  with  him,  but  the  other  thought  he 
was  on  the  wrong  road  ;  and  when  they  returned, 
made  his  doctrines  known  to  the  meeting  and 
urged  on  the  investigation. 


77 


THE   WOMAN    PREACHER 

PEOPLE  speak  of  what  religion  is  and  what  it 
is  not.  The  following  action  was  of  a  kind  not 
unusual  among  the  Quakers.  Was  it  religion? 
There  was  a  woman  preacher  who  came  to  the 
meeting  at  Hesper,  the  village  near  which  Enoch 
Willoughby  lived.  Her  name  was  for  a  long 
time  a  household  word,  but  the  writer  cannot 
recall  it.  It  might  have  been  Lucretia  'Mott, 
but  that  this  well-known  woman  never  went  so 
far  West.  Was  it  Loisa  Painter?  or  Alcinda 
Morrow?  or  Caroline  Fawcett?  or  Calinda 
Place  ?  or  Elizabeth  Owen  ?  At  all  events  it  was 
a  name  that  was  a  household  word  in  all  Quaker 
families ;  a  name  that  was  revered ;  a  name 
that  Enoch  Willoughby  would  never  hear  twice 
before  the  horses  would  have  been  hitched  up 
to  go  to  meeting  any  day  in  the  week  in  the 
midst  of  any  employment,  no  matter  how  im 
portant  ;  and  then  these  same  horses,  under 
the  same  conditions,  would  have  been  at  that 
woman's  command  to  take  her  to  her  next  stop 
ping-place.  She  was  truly  a  woman  of  God,  if 
the  expression  is  not  too  strong ;  a  woman  so 
78 


spiritual  and  unselfish  and  highminded  that  the 
communities  where  she  came  dropped  every 
thing  at  her  call,  and  considered  their  own 
business  light  in  comparison  to  obeying  her 
slightest  wishes. 

The  woman,  then,  came  to  Hesper  to  preach ; 
and  there  she  had  an  impression  so  strong  as  to 
be  irresistible,  that  she  must  go  out  and  visit 
Enoch  "Willoughby  and  his  family.  She  had 
heard  something  about  him,  but  that  did  not 
prevent  a  certain  strangeness  in  so  strong  an 
impression.  The  Friends  advised  her  not  to  go ; 
it  was  too  far,  seven  miles  away ;  a  cold  March 
wind  was  blowing.  It  made  no  difference.  Her 
companion  need  not  go,  she  said,  but  it  had  been 
borne  down  upon  her  with  such  force  during  the 
night  to  do  this  thing  that  she  must  obey.  There 
was  a  word  of  the  spirit  which  she  felt  she  must 
be  the  instrument  to  convey  to  that  family.  And 
so  she  went  out  to  the  house.  It  was  almost  as 
though  there  was  a  radiance  of  goodness  from 
that  wroman's  countenance  as  she  came ;  and 
when  she  met  the  family,  the  coolness  of  March 
seemed  suddenly  to  change  to  the  sunny  warmth 
of  June. 

"  Enoch,"  she  said,  as  she  took  his  hand  at 
meeting  him,  "  the  spirit  will  not  give  me  rest 
until  I  speak  one  word  to  thee." 

She  was  really  under  the  power  as  she  spoke, 
and  had  felt  it  about  her  all  the  way  out.  Enoch 
79 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

bowed  his  head  over  the  woman's  hand  and  was 
silent.  She  appealed  to  the  same  power  that  he 
worshipped  ;  here  was  one  higher  placed  in  the 
same  household  as  he,  and  he  must  obey  her. 
Here  it  was  "  thy  Lord  commanding  my  Lord." 
Hannah  stood  to  one  side;  the  children  were 
waiting  for  the  greetings  to  be  over  that  they 
might  be  noticed.  The  boys  were  afraid  to  lead 
away  the  horses  to  put  them  up  for  fear  the 
noise  of  the  moving  Avheels  might  disturb  the 
words  of  that  good  woman.  It  was  a  beautiful 
scene,  far  removed  from  the  materialism  of  our 
present  age.  It  was  like  a  scene  from  the  dawn 
of  the  age  of  electricity,  when  scientists  went 
around  with  magnetic  needles  in  their  pockets 
and  talked  of  nothing  else ;  or  a  scene  from  the 
age  of  philosophy  when  men  travelled  miles  and 
stood  for  hours  discussing  a  new  theory  of  pure 
reason  and  could  not  take  time  to  sit  down. 

"Enoch" — the  words  of  the  woman  were  elec 
trical  ;  there  was  something  about  them  that  was 
great  with  force  and  power — "  make  to  thyself/' 
she  said,  "  no  graven  images.  That  is  the  word 
that  has  come  upon  me  and  will  not  leave  me ; 
make  to  thyself  no  graven  images." 

And  then  she  explained  :  "  It  is  of  thy  mind 
and  not  of  the  spirit  that  thee  says  the  power 
that  is  upon  thee  is  this  or  that.  Thee  knows 
not  whether  it  be  departed  spirits,  or  the  Holy 
Spirit,  or  the  very  spirit  of  God  ;  then  do  not 
80 


THE   WOMAN   PREACHER 

attempt  to  say.  It  is  this  that  I  have  come  to 
tell  thee  and  to  impress  it  upon  thee." 

Here  as  Enoch  was  about  to  speak  she  inter 
rupted  him. 

"  No,  do  not  seek  to  convert  this  into  a  mere 
test  of  spirit  communication.  Thou  and  I  need 
no  such  tests.  I  am  aware  of  thy  worth,  and 
of  that  of  thy  family.  I  have  seen  the  separ 
ation  that  has  come  upon  thee  and  them;  I 
have  carried  it  in  my  mind  for  days  and  weeks ; 
the  spirit  has  been  grieved  within  me,  and  I 
have  had  to  visit  thee.  Now  let  us  go  in." 

She  took  possession  of  everything  about  the 
house,  and  all  recognized  her  authority  in  it. 
The  horses  now  drove  on  to  the  stable ;  the  chil 
dren  went  about  in  whispers,  and  cautioned  one 
another  not  to  disturb  Loisa.  The  best  chick 
ens  were  caught,  the  best  dinner  prepared  that 
the  place  afforded ;  but  no  doubt  Enoch  was  all 
the  time  thinking  of  Paul's  vision  on  the  way  to 
Damascus,  and  of  his  own  spiritual  whipping  in 
the  comcrib. 

After  the  dinner,  when  Loisa  had  rested  and 
risen,  he  approached  her  and  said :  "  Loisa, 
I  am  but  one  of  the  poorest  vessels  of  the 
Lord,  and  through  me  it  seems  offence  comes 
to  many ;  but  such  as  I  am,  I  may  not  change, 
and  what  it  is  given  to  me  to  know,  I  may  not 
forget." 

The  occasion,  the  deep  respect  he  felt  for  the 
81 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

woman  before  him,  his  recollection  of  Paul  and 
his  language,  caught  his  very  tongue  and  col 
ored  his  style  of  expression  : 

"  And  what  is  brought  upon  me  by  the  power 
to  confess,  ought  I  ever  to  deny  ?  I  have  been 
visited  by  dreams  and  visions,  many  of  them  ; 
and  once,  in  the  evening  of  a  day  on  which  I 
had  pondered  in  my  heart  the  name  of  the  new 
sect  that  has  given  so  great  offence,  and  when  I 
was  sore  with  the  fear  of  being  called  a  follower 
of  it,  then  as  I  leaned  down  to  take  up  corn  to 
put  into  the  basket,  a  spirit  came  upon  me,  and 
beat  me  even  into  unconsciousness  and  death 
and  told  me  throughout  these  words,  '  I  will 
teach  thee  to  deny  me.  I  will  teach  thee  to 
deny  me.'  Since  then  I  have  never  denied  and 
can  no  longer  deny;  the  will  of  the  Highest 
must  be  done." 

Then  followed  a  long,  peaceful  discussion ;  a 
searching  of  hearts  and  motives ;  at  the  end  of 
which  Loisa  said  she  was  relieved,  and  satisfied 
that  the  spirit  that  had  come  upon  this  family 
with  such  power  was  not  of  evil ;  and  if  it  led 
to  final  separation,  that  would  not  much  matter; 
there  was  something  higher  than  the  family, 
something  higher  than  the  church,  higher  even 
than  the  nation,  in  which  wo  existed  still  as  a 
brotherhood,  and  of  which  we  should  always  be 
members. 

She  was  about  to  go  with  those  words  of  no- 
82 


THE   WOMAN   PREACHER 

ble  meaning  on  her  lips,  but  Enoch  had  still 
something  to  say.  They  had  warmed  some 
brick  to  put  at  Loisa's  feet  on  the  way  back, 
and  had  insisted  on  her  taking  an  extra  buffalo 
robe  along.  They  could  get  it  the  next  time 
they  went  to  the  village.  But  Loisa  still  waited : 

"There  is  something  more,"  she  said.  "  Is  it 
on  thy  mind  or  mine  ?  " 

She  spoke  as  though  listening  to  an  inner  voice. 

Then,  after  a  moment's  pause,  she  answered 
her  own  question  : 

"  It  is  on  thine  ;  what  is  it,  Enoch  ?  " 

Then  Enoch  began  in  this  way  : 

"  There  is  a  subject,  Loisa,  about  which  I 
should  like  to  know  thy  way  of  thinking.  There 
is  a  young  woman  in  my  family,  my  wife's  sister, 
Lyddie ;  she  is  modest  and  not  unattractive,  and 
there  are  signs  not  to  be  mistaken  that  she  has 
been  chosen  of  the  spirit.  But  Hannah  says 
there  are  other  signs  not  to  be  mistaken  that  a 
young  man  has  chosen  her ;  and  in  this  Hannah 
is  most  likely  right,  for  she  has  a  deep  intuitive- 
ness  in  those  matters,  and  there  lies  the  trouble. 
This  young  man  is  not  a  son  of  spirituality ;  he 
has  never  been  borne  into  the  world  of  power ; 
and  it  is  exceedingly  doubtful  if  he  will  ever  be 
borne  into  it  in  this  life,  for  he  is  of  a  family 
that  has  not  often  been  visited  of  the  spirit. 
What  then  should  we,  who  know  all  these 
things,  do?" 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

Loisa  asked  then,  after  a  minute's  thought : 
"  Is  the  young  man  of  the  church  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  Friend,"  Enoch  Willoughby  replied, 
"  the  son  of  William  Price,  who  sits  at  the  head 
of  our  meeting.  He  is  blessed  with  prosperity, 
health,  youth,  and  has  true  affection;  but  I  fore 
see  that  this  union  will  bring  separation  into 
his  own  family,  and  may  not  itself  lead  to  that 
harmony  that  is  necessary  to  happiness  in  mar 
riage.  Can  thee  give  us  any  light  on  this  ques 
tion?" 

Enoch  used  the  ungrammatical  thee  of  the 
Quakers,  and  felt  it  would  be  an  affectation  for 
him  to  use  "thou  "  even  to  Loisa  Painter,  unless 
he  did  so  always  at  home. 

Now  there  was  a  long  silence.  Loisa  was  not 
a  woman  in  whom  ready  words  found  careless 
utterance.  With  a  sigh  she  rose  up  finally  and 
said : 

"  I  will  ponder  the  matter  well ;  and  if  any 
thing  is  given  me  to  say,  I  will  say  it  to  thee,  or 
I  will  write  it  to  thee,  or  I  will  come  again  and 
bring  it  to  thee.  Of  my  own  mind,  however,  I 
am  of  the  opinion  that  godly  love  is  all  powerful, 
and  must  have  his  own  way ;  and  the  question  of 
spirituality  or  unspirituality  is  not  like  putting 
new  wine  into  old  wine  skins,  and  thou  must  not 
be  too  sure  that  the  young  man  may  not  come 
into  the  kingdom ;  and,  as  for  separation,  though 
it  is  painful,  it  is  the  law  of  the  world.  Yet  re- 
84 


THE  WOMAN   PREACHER 

member,  these  are  but  my  own  words;  they  are 
not  given  or  sent  me,  and  have  no  special  sig 
nificance  or  power." 

Then  she  went,  and  it  seemed  as  if  she  drew 
the  whole  spirituality  of  the  neighborhood  away 
after  her.  It  took  hours  and  days  for  the  place 
to  seem  natural  and  homelike  again,  and  not 
desolate  and  lonely.  This  was  the  coming  and 
going  of  the  woman  Quaker  preacher.  Would 
that  such  comings  and  goings  were  more  fre 
quent  in  our  lives. 

Lyddie  meanwhile  kept  as  firmly  as  she  could 
to  her  determination  not  to  love  William  Olney. 
She  was  loyal  to  her  experiences  and  to  the 
family  in  which  she  lived.  She  was  womanly 
beyond  her  years  and  very  thoughtful,  and  she 
felt  that  there  might  be  trouble  and  harshness 
brought  into  the  world  if  she  and  William  Ol 
ney  Price  became  too  well  acquainted.  For  that 
reason  she  met  him  as  little  as  possible.  The 
second  time  he  came,  she  slipped  away  and 
went  over  to  the  Cadwalladers,  and  spent  the 
day  there.  But  she  found  that  William  Olney 
had  not  even  asked  for  her,  or  mentioned  her, 
and  had  again  spent  the  time  of  his  stay  with 
her  brothers. 

Perhaps  she  was  mistaken,  and  a  little  blush 

and   shame   came   with   the  thought;   and   yet 

Lyddie  was  of  that  sensitive  nature  that  reads 

thought  almost  by  intuition.     At  any  rate  when 

85 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

William  Olney  came  again  he  found  her;  and 
she  could  not  well  shun  him  and  be  rude  to  him. 

She  said  to  herself  if  she  could  keep  herself 
free,  there  could  be  no  great  harm  done;  that  he 
would  easily  recover  if  there  was  any  little  at 
traction;  as  soon  as  his  parents  learned  of  his 
coming,  they  would  find  some  means  of  stopping 
it;  and  besides,  Lyddie  would  be  altogether  too 
saintly  and  spiritual  for  romantic  purposes,  if 
she  had  not  had  a  little  pride  that  William  Olney 
Price  had  sought  her  out  and  paid  her  decided 
attention,  more  than  to  any  other  of  the  village 
girls. 

His  coming  was  a  compliment  to  the  family, 
and  there  is  no  use  of  denying  that  both  Lyddie 
and  Hannah  were  pleased ;  all  the  more  so  be 
cause  they  felt  the  humiliation  that  was  coming 
upon  them  by  Enoch's  determined  and  persistent 
use  of  the  name  of  spiritualism. 

The  sect  had  much  about  it  that  was  not  rep 
utable  even  then.  It  was  somewhat  connected 
with  necromancy  and  fortune-telling.  Yet  it  was 
not  as  now,  when,  as  soon  as  one  says  spiritual 
ism,  there  flashes  across  the  mind  of  the  hearer  a 
picture  of  plauchette  boards  and  dark  cabinets 
and  stage  performances ;  of  Georgia  wonders ;  of 
people  being  miraculously  bound  and  unbound 
for  show ;  and  of  exposing  the  secret  workings 
of  a  mysterious  power  for  pay. 

The  Willoughbys  would  have  thought  that 
86 


THE  WOMAN   PREACHER 

this  sort  of  spiritualism  had  no  connection  with 
matters  of  the  spirit,  and  for  their  part  had 
nothing  of  it.  Theirs  was  a  spiritualism  only 
of  thought,  of  dreams  and  visions  and  experi 
ences,  that  are  found  everywhere  in  the  Bible. 
But  in  spite  of  their  humiliation,  in  spite  of  the 
charitable  interpretation  of  his  theory  by  the 
woman  preacher,  in  spite  of  everything,  Enoch 
Willoughby  was  really  a  spiritualist,  for  he  be 
lieved  in  the  frequent  communication  with  de 
parted  spirits ;  and  by  that  name  he  had  chos 
en  his  company,  and  he  would  have  to  go  with 
them. 

Hannah  encouraged  William  Olney's  atten 
tions. 

"It  won't  hurt  thee,  Lyddie,"  she  said,  "to 
show  a  little  friendliness  to  the  young  man. 
He  certainly  hangs  about  as  though  he  had  lost 
the  last  friend  in  the  world." 

And  secretly  she  wondered  if  his  people  knew 
of  his  coming  there  regularly  every  week,  and 
whether  he  would  have  the  courage  to  confess 
it.  If  he  did  so  boldly,  she  would  have  a  great 
deal  of  respect  for  him. 

The  Willoughbys  were  already  thoroughly 
conscious  of  the  kind  of  feeling  that  was  grow 
ing  tip  against  them.  And  yet  there  was  in 
Hannah's  mind  too  much  affection  for  the 
church,  too  little  affiliation  with  the  new  belief, 
too  much  of  the  feeling  with  which  she  had  left 
87 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

her  husband's  bed  in  horror  that  one  night,  and 
lain  apart  from  him  in  grief  and  pain  of  spirit, 
for  her  yet  to  feel  anger  or  harshness  toward  the 
church  of  her  fathers. 

It  is  a  question  whether  women  are  capable  of 
going  idea-mad  at  all ;  or  if  they  are,  whether  it 
is  not  always  as  a  result  of  love  for  a  man  who 
has  this  madness.  The  fixed  idea  may  conquer 
the  heart  of  a  woman  when  it  is  incarnate  in  a 
beloved  object,  but  it  is  at  least  a  subject  of 
doubt  whether  it  ever  wholly  conquers  her  rea 
son  and  intellect. 

It  was  years  before  Hannah  gave  up  and  ac 
knowledged  the  name  of  spiritualism.  She  had 
had  no  spiritual  beatings  in  the  corncrib  to  has 
ten  her  decision.  She  had,  however,  had  the 
slow,  daily  process  of  a  love  that  was  better 
than  caressing;  that  was  always  care-taking, 
self-sacrificing,  and  tender ;  that  was  controlled 
by  reason,  subordinated  by  faith,  and  carried  on 
and  up  by  a  hope  greater  than  this  life. 

And  when  she  did  yield,  she  had  not  the  Chris 
tian  charity  that  is  without  malice  for  all  things. 
She  grew  into  a  good,  genuine,  hatred  of  all  that 
looked  down  upon  them  and  scorned  them  in 
their  new  faith. 

It  was  she  that  learned  to  use  finally  all  those 

radical  expressions,  called  liberal,  but  in  reality 

most  illiberal,  which  Enoch  was  always  checking 

her  for.     It  was  she  that  came  to  use  the  words 

88 


THE  WOMAN  PREACHEK 

"bigoted  Christians"  and  " narrow-minded  or 
thodox,"  and  later  on  cultivated  the  acquaintance 
of  spiritual  mediums  as  much  from  a  feeling  of 
pique  as  anything  ;  and  influenced  by  her  grow 
ing  dislike  and  hatred  of  the  old  meeting,  came 
even  to  dislike  the  Bible  without  reading  it,  and 
to  say  all  sorts  of  things  against  it,  ignorantly 
of  course,  but  passionately. 

And  here,  too,  Enoch  was  always  checking 
her  and  bringing  her  back  to  right  ideas  ;  al 
ways  remaining  himself  in  moderation ;  search 
ing  the  Scriptures  and  his  own  experience,  and 
cultivating  right  on  that  spirituality  that  was 
the  very  essence  of  his  nature. 

So  now  William  Olney  began  to  make  love  to 
Lyddie.  He  was  not  particularly  sensible  to 
her  affected  coolness.  He  told  her  he  loved 
her.  He  did  it  in  the  most  awkward  and  bash 
ful  way  imaginable,  and  Lyddie  began  to  reason 
with  him.  I  would  give  anything  if  it  were  pos 
sible  to  reproduce  that  scene,  with  its  singular 
styles  of  expression,  and  show  to  the  eye  and 
ear  Lyddie  "reasoning"  with  William  Olney, 
trying  to  persuade  him  that  it  was  not  best  they 
should  know  each  other  better  than  at  present. 
But  Lyddie  trying  to  reason  affection  out  only 
succeeded,  it  is  fair  to  suppose,  in  more  deeply 
reasoning  affection  in. 

If  William  Olney  succeeded  in  saying,  "  I  love 
thee,  Lydia,"  he  would  be  interrupted  by  Lyd- 
89 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

die  saying,  "  But  tbee  knows  well  enough  thee 
ought  not  to  love  me." 

She  would  go  on  with  the  manner  of  a  logician. 

"  I  think  I  can  show,  nay,  prove  that  thee 
ought  not  to  do  as  thee  says,  and  as  thee  most 
likely  is  mistaken  in  thinking  thee  does." 

"  I  think  thee  will  have  a  hard  task,  Lydia," 
we  can  imagine  him  saying. 

"But  my  name  is  not  Lydia,"  Lyddie  said, 
and  then  continued  with  quite  a  discussion  on 
the  two  pronunciations  of  the  name,  and  drew 
from  them  an  ingenious  parallel  between  his 
people  and  hers. 

"What  is  the  difference,  Lydia ?"  he  asked 
her.  He  was  willing  enough  she  should  say 
anything  if  she  would  only  stay  and  reason  on. 

"I  cannot  quite  explain  it  to  thee,"  she  said; 
"  but  Li/dia  is  more  set  and  formal,  more  like 
thy  father  at  the  head  of  the  meeting,  while 
Lyddie  is  like  my  brother-in-law  down  among 
the  low  benches." 

"  I  think  I  understand  thee,  Lydia,"  he  said  ; 
"and  if  thee  wishes  I  will  call  thee  Lyddie 
hereafter." 

But  ho  did  not ;  he  called  her  Lydia,  and  in 
spite  of  herself  she  began  rather  to  like  the 
change. 

When  he  asked  her  again  :  "  Lydia,  will  thee 
become  my  wife  ?  "  she  replied,  with  the  same 
calm,  reasoning  tone : 

90 


THE  WOMAN   PREACHER 

"  Oh,  no,  that  would  never  do  ;  thy  people  are 
the  strictest  of  the  orthodox  and  we  are  now 
worse  than  the  Hicksites." 

Then  it  was  that  William  Olney  explained  his 
ecclesiasticisrn. 

"  Lydia,  what  have  these  names  to  do  with  the 
matter  ?  "  he  argued.  "  I  have  never  paid  any 
attention  to  them ;  and  orthodox,  and  Hicksite, 
and  Spiritualist,  and  even  Roman  Catholic, 
have  but  an  empty  sound,  as  it  were,  in  my  ear. 
But  if  thee  feels  that  thee  can  only  love  me,  I 
am  sure  that  all  these  matters  can  be  deter 
mined  in  the  right  way  and  settled  hereafter 
to  the  satisfaction  of  us  all.  Tell  me  but  one 
thing,  Lydia.  Am  I  disagreeable  in  thy  eyes ; 
do  I  cause  thee  to  want  to  go  from  me?  " 

"  No,  it  is  not  that,  William  Olney,"  she  said ; 
"  but  suppose  I  should  be  '  controlled.' " 

She  said  this  with  a  spirit  of  mischief,  but 
not  altogether ;  for  these  people  were  not  prac 
tising  mere  scientific  experiment  when  they  sat 
in  the  circle  and  waited  on  the  spirit.  There 
was  about  it  in  those  days,  and  for  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby,  there  remained  always,  a  deep  religious 
significance. 

"  Does  thee  mean,  suppose  the  spirit  should 
come  upon  thee  to  preach  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Does 
thee  think  that  would  offend  me  ?  Haven't 
I  seen  Caroline  Fawcett  preach  in  the  meeting 
when  she  was  not  more  than  seventeen  years 
91 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

old ;   and  Elizabeth   Owen,  likewise ;   and  thy 
own  sister,  Hannah  ?  " 

"  But  this  is  different,"  Lyddie  persisted ; 
"suppose  I  should  act  in  meeting  as  my  brother- 
in-law,  Enoch,  did,  and  all  the  meeting  should 
get  up  and  go  out  and  leave  me,  and  I  should 
be  held  by  the  spirit  and  made  to  speak  on  in 
an  empty  meeting-house  ?  " 

It  was  with  a  spirit  of  soberness  and  mirth 
combined  that  she  went  on. 

"Yes,  what  would  thee  think  of  that.  And 
then  suppose  everybody  avoided  me ;  and 
thought  I  had  something  evil  about  me;  and 
called  me  harsh  names  and  should  even  try  me 
before  the  committee,  as  they  have  done  Enoch  ; 
suppose  they  should  go  on  and  disown  me 
from  the  meeting;  and  thy  own  father  and 
mother  should  feel  that  I  was  possessed,  and 
may  be  beside  myself.  What  would  thee  think 
of  that?" 

There  was  something  of  conscientiousness, 
too,  in  the  way  she  put  these  damaging  suppo 
sitions. 

"  Or  suppose  I  should  Avake  up  some  cold 
morning,  like  the  day  Loisa  Painter  came  to  see 
us,  and  tell  thee  that  the  spirit  had  been  with 
me,  and  compelled  me  to  go  and  admonish  some 
one  for,  let  us  say,  whipping  an  innocent  child, 
would  thee  let  me  go  and  may  be  even  go  with 
me  thyself?" 

92 


THE  WOMAN  PREACHER 

But  she  did  not  wait  for  an  answer. 

"  And  suppose  these  people  should  be  offended 
at  me,  because  I  had  been  informed  by  the  spirit 
of  that  which  they  were  anxious  to  conceal ;  and 
suppose  they  gave  me  threatening  answers,  and 
sent  me  offensive  letters,  and  even  attempted  to 
drive  me  out  of  the  neighborhood  by  secret 
threats  ?  " 

She  seemed  bound  to  make  that  side  of  the 
case  as  strong  as  possible. 

"  Thee  must  look  at  this  side  of  it,"  she  said, 
finally.  "I  ought  not  to  become  thy  wife.  Only 
they  of  the  spirit  can  know  the  difficulties  it  has 
to  overcome,  and  I  must  follow  what  it  is  given 
to  me  to  follow,  and  do  what  it  is  given  me  to 
do." 

It  was  a  most  singular  courtship,  but  it  is  an 
incontestable  fact  that  as  William  Olney  sat  and 
listened  to  this  young  girl,  he  did  not  take  in 
the  sense  of  her  words  at  all.  He  was  too  sen 
sible.  He  heard  the  music  of  her  voice,  that 
melting  sweetness  of  sound  that  always  accom 
panied  her  words. 

He  saw  her  eye  quicken  with  life  under  the 
effect  of  her  unusual  inspiration  to  speech  ;  he 
saw  how  beautiful  she  was  ;  how  mild  and 
gentle  and  spiritual  this  sweet  Quaker  girl ;  it 
had  been  growing  on  him  right  in  the  midst  of 
the  speech,  the  irresistible  impulse  to  take  her 
in  his  arms  and  kiss  her  lips.  He  felt  that  was 
93 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

the  only  answer  to  give  her.  But  he  was  not  a 
man  of  impulses  ;  impulse  was  not  strong  enough 
in  him  to  lead  to  immediate  action. 

And  before  he  had  time  to  act  or  reply,  Lvddie 
had  risen  and  said, "  I  will  weigh  well  what  thee 
has  said  to  me,  and  I  consider  it  an  honorable 
question  and  worthy  of  a  well-considered  an 
swer." 

Then  there  was  something  said  about  William 
Olney's  coming  to  one  of  their  meetings  and 
about  returning  to  this  subject  again,  and  the 
young  man  went  away. 

As  young  William  Olney  went  home  after 
having  learned  when  the  spiritual  meeting  was 
to  be  held,  he  was  wrapped  up  in  the  same  illu 
sion  of  love  that  is  incomprehensible  to  one  out 
of  it,  or  in  it  either  for  that  matter.  He  felt  in 
his  sedate  way  that  he  would  go  through  fire  and 
flood  for  this  girl,  and  he  would  like  to  hear  of 
any  one  writing  her  an  offensive  letter.  Her 
words  began  to  come  back  to  him  now.  "  Drive 
her  from  the  neighborhood !  "  His  wrath  was 
slow  to  rise,  but  it  rose  in  a  great  flame,  give  it 
time  enough. 

"  And  getting  up  in  the  cold  and  driving  her 
miles  away  in  the  country  in  the  early  morn 
ing."  He  would  like  nothing  better.  They 
would  wrap  themselves  up  in  a  buffalo  robe  ;  he 
wished  this  very  moment  they  were  on  their 
way.  And  what  was  she  going  to  do  there  in 
94 


THE   WOMAN    PREACHER 

the  country.  It  didn't  make  any  difference  to 
him  what  she  was  going  to  do.  He  would  help 
her  in  whatever  she  undertook,  and,  thinking 
over  the  time  the  spiritual  meeting  was  to  take 
place,  he  rode  on  home. 


95 


XI 

THE   TRICE  VISIT 

IT  is  always  disagreeable  to  follow  the  work 
ings  of  a  mind  that  has  evil  in  it,  and  William 
Olney's  father,  William  Price,  though  not  by 
nature  a  bad  man,  to  have  prevented  the  mar 
riage  might  have  played  easy  with  his  con 
science  a  little.  There  would  have  been  no  break 
with  his  son.  There  would  have  been  nothing 
done  outwardly  that  any  one  could  have  re 
proached  him  for,  nothing  as  to  which  he  could 
not  easily  have  deceived  himself  into  the  be 
lief  that  he  was  doing  right.  But  he  had  two 
strong  holds  on  the  family  of  Enoch  Willough- 
by  ;  one,  the  mortgage  on  the  farm  ;  and  the 
other,  the  investigation  by  the  committee.  No 
one  could  tell  what  he  would  have  done  in 
either  case;  but  in  some  matters,  the  wish  is 
father  to  the  thought  and  even  to  the  action  ; 
and  there  is  no  doubt  he  wished  earnestly  that 
something  should  cause  Enoch  Willoughby  to 
remove  from  the  neighborhood. 

The  mortgage  and  the  church  difficulty  alone 
would  probably  never  have  been  sufficient  to 
bring  this  about,  but  a  number  of  circumstances 
96 


THE  PRICE  VISIT 

were  quietly  helping  them ;  in  the  first  place,  a 
kind  of  asthma,  always  worse  in  winter,  so  that 
Enoch  began  talking  of  removing  South  for  his 
health ;  when  the  wild  geese  went  over  in  the  fall, 
he  often  watched  them  and  talked  of  following 
them.  Then  there  was  a  natural  inclination  to 
change ;  there  was  a  good  deal  of  the  "Western 
rover  in  him,  and  besides  he  had  already  re 
moved  enough  times  to  have  learned  the  advan 
tages  in  those  days  of  selling  an  old  farm  and 
buying  a  new  one ;  in  this  way  he  could  start 
again  without  debt. 

And  there  was  the  action  and  outcome  of 
that  brother,  John,  who  had  gone  with  him 
to  Iowa,  and  who  was  mentioned  in  the  first 
chapter  of  this  story.  He  was  married  and  had 
quite  a  large  family  of  children,  and  they  did 
not  turn  out  well.  The  John  Willoughbys  lived 
still  farther  away  from  Hesper  than  Enoch 
did  and  in  a  rather  rough  neighborhood.  They 
were  not  well  off,  though  not  dependent;  and 
withal  very  proud,  with  that  kind  of  pride 
Enoch  Willoughby  always  called  beggar-pride ; 
that  kind,  for  example,  that  likes  to  buy  finery 
and  make  a  show  and  is  not  too  careful  about 
paying  its  debts.  Such  people  can  be  very  ex 
asperating  some  times,  especially  if  they  are 
relatives  and  one  feels  in  any  way  responsi 
ble  for  them.  This  responsibility  Enoch  Wil 
loughby  did  feel  for  his  brother  John,  and  this 
97 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

gave  him  a  great  deal  to  think  about ;  one  would 
have  thought  it  sufficient  to  keep  his  mind  off 
spiritualism  a  little,  but  ho  had  plenty  of 
thought  apparently  for  that  too.  Later  on  we 
may  have  more  to  say  about  this  family  of  Wil- 
loughbys.  At  present  there  is  little  to  tell  of 
them  except  the  annoyance  the  children  caused 
Hannah  and  Lyddie,  by  their  sly  hints  and  in 
nuendoes  at  their  belief  in  spiritualism.  They 
used  to  come  over  frequently  and  liked  to  attend 
the  spiritual  meetings,  more  as  though  they  were 
a  kind  of  amusement  than  anything  else  ;  and 
soon  caught  the  humor  of  putting  to  common 
use  all  the  terms  that  had  come  up  among  the 
spiritualists  in  a  way  that  annoyed  Hannah 
and  even  Uncle  Enoch.  And  then,  too,  John 
kept  borrowing  money  and  using  it  up,  resting 
on  his  oars,  as  Enoch  called  it.  Not  only  that 
but  he  had  gotten  a  bad  reputation.  Enoch 
Willoughby  remained  always  a  Christian  spirit 
ualist,  and  always  said  he  was  more  a  primitive 
Quaker  than  anything  else.  But  John  Willough 
by  took  up  with  every  new  and  wild  theory  that 
presented  itself.  He  talked  among  other  things 
on  free  love,  so  long  and  often  that  his  wife  Lis- 
beth  threatened  to  leave  him  if  he  did  not  quit 
it ;  and  whether  he  had  any  religious  belief  or 
not,  would  have  been  a  very  hard  matter  to  de 
termine.  But  he  got  the  name  of  atheist  and 
infidel  somehow  or  other.  He  was  rather  harsh 
98 


THE   PKICE  VISIT 

in  his  attitude  toward  everything  and  every 
body,  and  of  course  made  enemies ;  and  secretly 
in  their  hearts,  perhaps  Enoch  and  Hannah 
Willoughby  wanted  to  go  to  a  country  where 
John  and  Elisabeth  Willoughby  and  their  family 
were  not.  One  could  not  very  much  blame 
them,  especially  Enoch,  whose  whole  desire  was 
to  right  himself  by  good  action  in  the  eyes  of  a 
community  who  considered  his  belief  disrepu 
table. 

There  was  still  one  other  thing  that  helped 
make  up  the  chapter  of  reasons  why  the  Wil- 
loughbys  talked  so  strongly  of  leaving  the 
country.  Enoch  and  Hannah  had  lately  gone 
to  visit  the  John  "Willoughbys.  It  was  the 
custom  in  those  days  for  families  to  make 
long  visits  to  one  another.  In  this  visit, 
Enoch  was  "  controlled  "  to  go  to  a  man  who 
lived  down  the  creek  from  John's  house  and  ad 
monish  him  for  they  never  knew  what  exactly. 
Such  action  was  not  incomprehensible  to  such  as 
he.  They  believed  a  spirit  urged  them  to  bring 
home  to  the  mind  of  some  person  his  wrong 
doing  or  some  such  thing.  At  any  rate,  Enoch 
went  in  spite  of  Hannah's  remonstrance.  He 
had  done  such  things  before,  and  sometimes 
there  had  seemed  to  be  good  cause  for  such  ac 
tions  and  good  results  to  come  from  them. 
But  in  this  case,  Hannah  thought  he  ought  not 
to  obey.  Those  people  were  rough,  coarse 
99 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

people,  of  no  spirituality  whatever,  and  there 
was  no  telling  how  they  might  take  it.  She 
was  right,  too,  as  the  sequel  proved.  Enoch 
did  not  remember  what  he  said  to  the  man,  but 
he  made  him  very  angry.  Perhaps  we  ought 
not  to  say  the  man  was  a  coarse,  brutal,  bully 
ing  man,  for  we  might  want  to  change  it ;  but 
that  would  be  the  first  impression  of  him.  And 
the  result  of  the  visit  was  that  Enoch  Will- 
oughby  received  not  long  afterwards  an  anony 
mous  letter.  It  is  not  probable  he  would  have 
paid  any  attention  to  it  alone,  but  when  taken 
in  connection  with  all  the  other  reasons  for  leav 
ing  that  neighborhood,  it  must  have  had  some 
weight.  And  now  the  family  began  to  talk  seri 
ously  of  going  South. 

There  are  people  who  ease  their  consciences 
by  after-acts  ;  that  is,  they  do  some  slight  but 
irreparable  injury,  and  then  try  to  repair  it ; 
try  so  very  hard  that  they  throw  the  whole 
blame  finally  on  the  one  injured.  William 
Price  had  done  nothing  to  cause  the  Willough- 
bys  to  leave  the  country,  it  is  true,  but  he  had 
certainly  felt  the  desire  that  they  should  leave, 
and  now  when  he  heard  they  were  going,  he 
may  have  had  a  little  compunction  for  an  un 
just  thought.  At  any  rate,  he  said  to  his  wife, 
Rachel,  that  they  ought  to  go  out  and  visit 
the  Enoch  "VYilloughbys  before  they  left  the 
country. 

100 


THE  PRICE  VISIT 

When  he  said  this,  Rachel  looked  at  him 
earnestly;  there  was  nothing  in  his  face  that 
betrayed  his  meaning.  She  thought  it  rather 
singular,  but  yet  William  had  been  out  to  the 
Willoughbys  more  than  once  on  the  investigat 
ing  committee  ;  it  might  be  now  a  little  friend 
liness  was  meant  as  an  offset  to  this  former 
apparent  hostility. 

William  Price  was  not  a  man  who  laid  bare 
all  his  motives  for  any  action,  and  his  family 
were  not  accustomed  to  inquire  too  closely  into 
the  whys  and  wherefores  of  what  they  were 
asked  to  do.  Rachel  Price  then  only  consid 
ered  what  kind  of  visit  he  was  thinking  of 
making ;  whether  they  should  send  word  they 
were  coming,  and  stay  to  dinner ;  or  whether 
the  visit  should  be  somewhat  short  and  formal. 

William  said  they  would  drive  out  in  the  car 
riage  about  ten  o'clock  some  week-day  morning ; 
they  would  stay  to  dinner  and  make  a  friendly 
visit. 

"  And,"  he  continued,  "  as  for  formality,  by 
which  I  suppose  thee  means  dress,  it  might 
show  the  greater  good-will  if  thee  should  go 
looking  well." 

Rachel  began  to  see  what  he  meant.  If  there 
was  a  little  dislike  for  them  by  the  women  of  the 
Willoughby  household,  he  was  at  least  willing 
it  should  remain  as  great  as  it  was,  and  though 
this  was  to  be  a  friendly  visit,  it  was  to  be 
101 


ENOCH    WILLOUGH13Y 

frigidly  friendly ;  that  much  she  could  pretty 
plainly  see,  and  on  the  way  out  she  learned 
more.  William  told  her  that  he  had  it  in  mind 
some  time  during  the  day,  either  before  dinner 
or  after,  there  would  be  found  an  occasion  for 
her,  Rachel,  to  be  with  Lyddie  alone ;  and  she 
might  find  opportunity  of  letting  her  know  how 
dear  a  son  was  to  a  mother,  and  how  terrible  a 
thing  a  separation  between  them  would  be.  She 
might  impress  upon  her  mind  how  set  "  father  " 
was  in  his  ways  of  thinking,  and  how  surely  the 
father  and  son  would  be  forever  separated  also  ; 
and  if  the  girl  had  mercenary  motives,  but  they 
did  not  give  her  credit  for  any  such,  yet  it  might 
be  just  as  well  to  let  her  know  that  in  case  of  a 
marriage  against  his  father's  will,  William  Olney 
would  remain  without  any  share  in  his  father's 
property. 

In  fact  this  visit  was  the  result  of  the  deepest 
kind  of  calm  meditation.  William  Price  was 
convinced,  from  certain  indications  of  late,  that 
it  would  be  of  little  use  to  try  to  influence  the 
young  man.  They  must  try  to  aftect  Lyddie  ; 
this  was  the  real  object  of  the  visit.  In  this 
way  people  not  infrequently  use  their  reputation 
for  faults  of  character  to  further  their  own  ends. 
And  so  the  visit  wras  made. 

This  was  not  by  any  means  a  Loisa  Painter 
visit.  When  the  carriage  was  seen  coming, 
there  wras  a  great  flutter  of  excitement.  Who 
102 


THE  PRICE  VISIT 

could  it  be?  was  the  first  question,  and  were 
they  coming  here,  the  next.  Then  when  it  was 
seen  to  be  William  Price  and  his  wife,  and  that 
they  were  coming  in,  the  question  was  what 
could  it  be  for? 

"It  is  something  about  William  Olney,  Lyd- 
die,"  Hannah  said  to  her,  "  thee  may  be  sure  of 
that." 

And  Lyddie  was  sure  of  it.  Could  it  be 
possible  they  had  come  out  of  real  friendliness, 
because  he  had  wanted  them  to  become  better 
acquainted?  She  did  not  believe  this;  she 
instinctively  felt  the  visit  was  hostile  to  her. 
Lyddie's  touch  of  spirituality  had  given  her  an 
insight  into  character,  great  control  over  herself 
and  a  right  estimation  of  the  importance  or  un 
importance  of  little  things ;  so  that  in  a  moment 
she  was  calm,  less  flurried  and  fluttered  than  her 
sister  Hannah,  not  at  all  discomposed  at  the 
sight  of  Rachel's  heavy  silk  dress  or  rich 
Quaker  bonnet  with  its  little  fringe  of  expen 
sive  lace. 

She  went  out  with  Hannah  to  greet  the 
Prices;  she  it  was  who  sent  some  one  to  find 
Enoch,  who  was  about  the  place  ;  and  had  a  boy 
put  up  the  horses.  Then  she  left  Hannah  to 
talk  with  the  visitors  while  she  proceeded  to 
make  the  first  arrangements  for  dinner. 

If  they  had  intended  to  overawe  Lyddie  and 
frighten  her,  they  had  plainly  failed.  She  was 
103 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

only  a  modest  young  woman,  but  there  was 
something  about  her  that  Rachel  did  not  quite 
understand.  She  had  thought  she  would  find 
that  occasion  to  speak  to  her  before  dinner ;  may 
be  she  would  find  an  excuse  to  go  out  into  the 
kitchen  or  into  the  garden  where  she  was,  but 
now  she  rather  concluded  to  put  it  off  until  after 
dinner.  There  would  then  be  time  enough. 

But  after  dinner — the  dinner  was  one  of  those 
quiet  Quaker  dinners,  preceded  by  the  usual 
silent  blessing,  in  which  Enoch's  arm  was  ob 
served  to  give  one  or  two  singular  jumps  as 
though  the  spirit  even  then  was  ready  to  come 
upon  him — after  dinner,  Lyddie  appeared  in  so 
neat  a  garb,  so  plain  and  Quaker-like  and  be 
coming,  that  Rachel  Price  felt  a  little  pain  in 
her  heart  at  what  she  knew  she  had  to  do.  She 
could  not  help  looking  at  Lyddie's  wavy  brown 
hair,  curtained  down  her  forehead,  and  tied  in  a 
Grecian  knot  at  the  back  of  her  head — it  was 
very  becoming  to  her.  Her  cheeks  were  ruddy 
and  her  complexion  warm  and  rich ;  and  when 
ever  she  spoke  there  was  a  little  something  about 
her  voice  that  thrilled  Rachel  Price.  Her  lan 
guage  was  good  and  grammatical,  and  Rachel 
noticed  she  said  "you"  when  addressing  her 
and  William,  while  she  said  "  thee  "  to  Hannah 
and  Enoch  and  others  of  the  family. 

William  Price  and  Enoch,  of  course,  talked 
of  religion,  and  were  deep  in  the  discussion ; 

104 


THE  PRICE  VISIT 

Hannah  and  Rachel  were  speaking  of  various 
people  they  knew,  and  Lyddie  was  trying  to  be 
attentive  to  each  conversation,  but  was  interested 
plainly  in  the  religious  discussion  and  had  diffi 
culty  in  keeping  the  run  of  Rachel's  and 
Hannah's  talk.  It  was  now  that  Rachel  hoped 
she  might  get  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to 
Lyddie,  but  Lyddie  was  so  plainly  following 
the  discourse  of  the  men  that  Rachel  felt  a  little 
embarrassed.  Lyddie  was  not  like  a  timid  girl. 
She  was  a  young  woman  of  high  mind  ;  Rachel 
reproached  herself  once  for  allowing  the  thought 
to  cross  her  mind,  but  she  could  not  altogether 
blame  William  Olney.  There  was  nothing  about 
the  young  woman  that  could  be  reproached. 
She  was  of  an  old  and  respectable  family  of 
Quakers  on  both  sides;  but  she  was  a  spirit 
ualist,  and  some  said  she  was  a  medium.  It 
was  awful.  Of  course  you  could  not  see  any 
thing  of  it  to  look  at  her,  but  to  think  of  it ! 
Rachel  shuddered  at  the  thought  and  deter 
mined  that  she  would  carry  out  what  she  had 
come  to  do.  But  look  as  she  would,  she  could 
see  no  way  of  finding  a  right  opportunity  to  do 
so ;  she  saw  she  would  have  to  make  the  op 
portunity.  She  would  have  to  call  the  young 
woman  by  name,  attract  her  attention  from  the 
men's  conversation  and  ask  to  speak  a  word 
with  her  privately.  Of  course,  every  one  would 
know  what  it  was  about.  She  would  have  to 
105 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

get  up  and  go  out  with  her  before  them  all.  It 
was  a  very  difficult  task ;  she  trembled  at  it,  but 
she  must  carry  it  out. 

And  Lyddie,  too,  felt  that  something  was 
coming,  but  she  had  said  to  herself,  "  Let  them 
open  the  subject." 

She  noticed  that  Rachel  was  uneasy,  and 
when  finally  she  looked  over  to  her  and  called 
her  by  name,  Lyddie  arose  and  asked :  "  Would 
you  like  to  speak  to  me?  " 

The  "you"  sounded  a  little  strange  and  harsh 
to  Rachel  Price,  accustomed  as  all  the  members 
of  the  meeting  were  to  addressing  one  another 
with  "thee"  and  "  thou."  With  this  Lyddie 
led  the  way  out  of  the  room  and  left  in  it  a 
blank  silence.  There  was  silence  outside,  too, 
for  Rachel,  in  spite  of  herself,  could  not  begin. 

After  waiting  awhile,  and  seeing  her  embar 
rassment,  Lyddie  began  very  calmly,  with  not 
a  flutter  in  her  voice:  "You  wish  to  speak  to 
me  of  your  son,  William  Olney.  It  doesn't 
require  any  special  intuition  to  perceive  that. 
I  am  listening.  If  thee  has  anything  to  say, 
Rachel  Price,  say  it  and  I  will  heed  it." 

She  must  have  felt  a  touch  of  emotion  that 
forced  her  to  use  the  familiar  address.  Her 
breath  came  quick  and  fast,  but  she  had  so 
gotten  the  start  of  Rachel  Price,  that  that  good 
woman  could  not  find  words  to  express  herself. 

Lyddie  finall}'  spoke  again. 
106 


THE  PRICE  VISIT 

"  Thee  can  at  least  tell  me  whether  that  is  the 
subject  on  thy  mind."  She  still  waited,  but 
Kachel  did  not  yet  speak.  "  If  it  is,  and  thee 
is  fearful  lest  he  have  asked  me  to  become  his 
wife,  let  me  set  thy  mind  at  rest.  He  has  done 
so  twice,  and  I  have  attempted  to  convince  him 
each  time  that  he  was  wrong,  and  have  as  mildly 
and  yet  firmly  as  possible  refused  him." 

"  But  why  did  thee  refuse  him  ?  " 

Kachel  spoke  before  she  thought,  and  sur 
prised  herself  by  asking  that  question. 

And  then  a  most  singular  thing  happened. 
The  mother  was  led  into  praising  her  son  to  the 
very  woman  whom  she  did  not  want  him  to 
marry.  There  was  an  earnestness  and  sim 
plicity  in  Lyddie's  words  about  him  that  car 
ried  conviction ;  and  when  she  spoke  of  the 
difference  between  her  nature  and  William  Ol- 
ney's,  and  manifested  withal  such  a  desire  to 
find  the  best  in  the  character  of  the  young  man 
and  make  the  most  of  it,  no  one  would  have 
thought  of  any  personal  interest  she  might  have 
had  in  the  matter.  For  Rachel  on  her  part  it 
was  a  good  deal  such  a  conversation  as  she 
might  have  carried  on  with  the  principal  of  a 
school,  to  which  she  had  taken  her  young  son 
with  the  expectation  of  leaving  him  there  to  be 
educated. 

"  Set  thy  mind  at  rest,  Rachel  Price,"  Lyddie 
said,  finally.  "  It  has  not  been  difficult  to  refuse 
107 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

your  son  twice,  for  I  do  not  love  him,  and  can 
and  will  refuse  him  if  he  should  ever  do  me  the 
honor  to  ask  me  again." 

Then  she  led  the  way  back  to  the  room  they 
had  left.  She  was  entire  master  of  the  situa 
tion,  calm  and  quiet ;  she  even  tried  to  start  a 
general  conversation.  But  the  others  were  too 
much  interested  to  engage  in  it,  knowing  what 
had  happened.  An  awkward  silence  ensued. 

In  order  to  understand  what  broke  it  one 
would  have  to  remember  what  kind  of  character 
Hannah's  was,  what  kind  of  life  she  had  led  at 
old  Enoch  "Willoughby's  in  Ohio,  constantly 
weeping  at  old  Margaret's  harshness  and  eccen 
tricities.  Old  Margaret  was  just  the  kind  of 
person  one  would  like  to  be  able  to  call  Lady 
Margaret,  if  there  were  a  system  of  titles  in  this 
country — high  and  mighty,  lordly,  proud,  and 
peculiar  ;  and  young  Hannah  was  nothing  but 
a  bundle  of  enthusiasms,  quick,  sensitive,  im 
aginative,  easily  passing  from  tears  to  laughter. 
She  reminded  one  of  some  old  illustrations  in  a 
copy  of  Shakespeare,  where  the  women  seem  to 
be  all  neck,  with  heads  like  lilies,  turning  on 
long  and  slender  stems.  Her  kind  of  nature 
does  not  have  the  control  of  itself  that  Lyddie's 
had.  In  some  persons  a  fountain  of  suppressed 
emotion  spreads  out  into  a  placid  surface  of  pro 
found  reasoning  ;  in  others  it  bubbles  up  and 
froths  and  foams  in  hysterical  activity. 
108 


Of  the  latter  kind  was  Hannah.  She  had 
been  repressing  her  feeling  all  day ;  in  fact  for 
a  long  time.  She  was  not  yet  a  spiritualist,  had 
never  acknowledged  the  name ;  and  might  just 
as  easily  have  been  aroused  to  take  the  other 
side  of  the  question,  and  hysterically  plead  for 
her  old  Quaker  faith  as  for  this.  But  now,  to 
day,  something  had  set  her  all  aflame ;  most  of 
all  her  pride  was  hurt.  They  were  not  good 
enough  for  the  Prices,  weren't  they?  The 
Prices  had  come  out  here  to  show  them  that,  to 
overawe  them  with  silk  dresses  and  fine  bon 
nets.  She  felt  Lyddie's  humiliation  a  thousand 
times  more  than  Lyddie  had  herself  felt  it. 

It  is  under  this  kind  of  passionate  excitement 
that  we  say  and  do  things  that  shape  and  fash 
ion  our  whole  future  lives.  While  Lyddie  was 
out  Hannah  had  sat  like  one  almost  in  a  frenzy, 
and  when  she  came  in  she  went  over  to  her  and 
said  aloud  : 

"  What  did  she  say  to  thee,  tell  me,  for  I 
will  know  ?  " 

"  Hannah,  Hannah,"  Enoch  Willoughby  spoke 
up,  for  he  saw  in  Hannah's  eyes  a  look  that 
showed  she  was  becoming  hysterical,  "calm 
thyself,  there  is  nothing  the  matter,  remem 
ber." 

But  Hannah  burst  forth. 

"  So  there  is  nothing  the  matter,  is  there  ?  I 
think  there  is  everything  the  matter."  She  em- 
109 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

phasized  the  everything.  "  We  may  not  be 
in  a  den  of  wolves,  but  we  are  in  a  den  of 
canting  hypocrites." 

The  scene  was  painful,  distressing. 

"  Thee,  thee,  William  Price,  I  mean  thee." 

Her  voice  rose  high  and  piercing,  and  she 
walked  out  into  the  room,  her  tall  form  swaying 
back  and  forth. 

"  And  thee,  Rachel  Price,  the  wife  of  a  hypo 
crite  who  have  eaten  our  bread  and  pretended 
friendship  and  have  hatred  in  your  hearts  and 
scorn  for  us  whom  you  think  the  lowest  of  the 
low."  It  was  a  fearful  tirade,  and  no  one  could 
stop  her. 

Lyddie  tried  to  pacify  her. 

"  No,  I  will  have  my  say  !  "  Hannah  almost 
shrieked;  "let  them  feel  it  once,  let  them  go 
and  scorn  us;  let  them  turn  their  backs  on 
the  spirit  and  blaspheme ;  that's  what  you 
are,  blasphemers,  who  deny  the  spirit,  unless 
it  comes  in  the  oily  tongue  of  worldly  hypoc 
risy,  fine  clothes  and  set  seasons;  for  shame 
upon  you,  go  your  way  and  leave  the  house  that 
has  been  visited  by  far  better  than  you.  And 
may  your  souls  dry  up  and  wither  away  spirit 
ually  for  the  want  of  just  such  visitation.  You 
are  of  the  earth,  earthy,  earthy  ..." 

Then  she  lost  control  of  herself,  and  began 
to  babble  in  a  strange  way,  without  intelligible 
words. 

110 


THE  PRICE  VISIT 

They  took  her  to  her  bed  and  induced  her 
to  lie  down,  where  after  a  time  she  grew 
calm. 

Meanwhile  Enoch  Willoughby  had  spoken  to 
the  Prices. 

"Hannah  is  not  responsible  for  her  words 
now ; "  he  said,  "  she  is  beside  herself  from 
emotion,  and  will  herself  be  sorry  that  she  has 
acted  thus.  It  was  not  Christian,  and  should 
not  have  been.  Whatever  is  best  to  do  about 
the  young  man  and  woman,  I  am  sure,  Will 
iam,  thee  will  find  out  to  do.  It  has  already 
concerned  ine  much  and  I  have  even  counselled 
with  others  about  it,  but  have  not  known  just 
what  to  say." 

And  Lyddie,  too,  had  remained  perfectly  calm, 
and  had  done  the  honors  of  the  house,  excused 
her  sister  as  well  as  she  could,  saying  she  was 
excitable  and  had  felt  all  along  more  than  any 
one  else  the  reproach  which  the  new  sect  was 
bringing  upon  them,  and  her  feeling  had  now 
gotten  control  of  her. 

It  was  just  as  she  bade  them  good-by  that 
Bachel  Price,  moved  by  Lyddie's  seemliness 
under  these  trying  circumstances,  and  by  her 
calmness  and  placid  Quaker  beauty  and  unruf 
fled  friendliness,  could  not  resist  the  impulse, 
after  she  had  stepped  into  the  carriage,  to  bend 
down  toward  Lyddie  and  take  her  hand  and 
say,  as  she  pressed  it : 

111 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

"Thou  art  a  good  woman,  Lyclia,  thou  art  a 
good  woman." 

Lyddie  had  it  on  her  tongue  to  make  some 
sharp  reply,  to  draw  back  her  hand,  to  let  her 
own  pride  appear;  but  she  checked  herself,  or 
something  checked  her ;  for  a  long  time  it  was 
a  mystery  to  her  what  it  was  that  held  her  back 
and  let  these  remain  the  last  words  of  that  mo 
mentous  Quaker  visit  to  the  Willoughbys : 
"  Thou  art  a  good  woman,  Lyclia,  thou  art  a 
good  woman." 


113 


XII 

FACING  IT  OUT 

LYDDIE'S  promise  given  unasked,  as  it  had 
been,  did  not  seem  to  bring  Rachel  or  William 
Price  the  satisfaction  they  had  anticipated. 
They  both  felt  not  a  little  ashamed,  and  both 
feared  that  the  worst  was  still  to  come.  It 
would  never  be  a  marriage,  Rachel  Price  felt 
sure  of  that ;  but  the  possibility  even  was  not 
pleasant.  It  was  true  she  could  not  help  rather 
liking  the  young  woman.  If  only  there  was 
nothing  wrong  with  her  belief,  she  could  easily 
have  thought  of  her  as  a  daughter-in-law.  But 
if  she  was  a  medium !  Oh,  dear,  no !  That 
would  never  do  ;  never,  never,  never  ? 

And  William  Price's  dissatisfaction  came  from 
the  thought  of  what  William  Olney  would  do, 
and  of  what  he  would  say  of  their  visit,  which 
was  plainly  an  intervention  in  his  affairs.  He 
dreaded  the  outcome  a  little,  but  he  knew  very 
well  what  ho  should  say  by  way  of  excuse. 
They  had  only  made  a  friendly  visit,  where  they 
had  been  berated,  and  spoken  to  in  a  harsh  and 
unchristian  manner,  for  something  they  had 
neither  said  nor  done.  It  was  not  William 
113 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

Price's  way  to  go  directly  at  anything.  Even 
now  he  was  beginning  to  blame  the  WiUongh- 
bys  for  the  visit,  and  all  its  outcome.  He  had 
almost  made  himself  believe  that  they  had  in 
vited  them  out,  and  had  then  turned  upon  their 
guests  and  reproached  them  and  shamed  them. 
It  was  very  pleasant  to  have  this  kind  of  accom 
modating,  politic  conscience. 

As  for  the  Enoch  Willoughbys  things  were 
fast  becoming  worse.  They  now  felt  that  the 
estrangement  between  them  and  the  church  was 
almost  incurable.  Hannah's  tantrum  had  flown 
in  the  face  of  all  Enoch's  pacifying  attitude,  and 
what  would  become  of  William  Oluey's  and 
Lyddie's  case  was  now  a  question. 

There  would  have  been  perhaps  no  question 
about  it,  but  Lyddie  was  impressionable  and 
inclined  to  give  great  heed  to  her  impressions. 
What  had  been  the  reason,  when  speaking  with 
Rachel  Price,  as  she  bade  her  good-by,  that 
she  had  not  been  able  to  say  what  rose  to  her 
lips  ?  It  was  one  of  those  little  things  quite  in 
keeping  with  all  her  surroundings  and  experi 
ences.  She  thought  she  must  have  been  "  held 
back "  from  doing  it ;  and,  as  she  thought  over 
it,  she  no  doubt  magnified  it  until  she  came 
to  believe  it  was  a  leading,  a  spiritual  opening 
that  she  must  obey.  That  was,  perhaps,  the 
first  time  she  had  ever  asked  herself  if  she 
cared  for  the  young  man.  She  noticed  now 
114 


PACING  IT   OUT 

that  the  words  of  his  mother  had  been  especi 
ally  pleasing  to  her.  In  spite  of  her  impulse  to 
retaliation  a  few  moments  before,  they  had 
soothed  her  and  flattered  her. 

Where  minds  are  highly  wrought  upon,  a  little 
word  often  makes  a  deep  impression,  and  these 
words,  "  Thou  art  a  good  woman,  Lydia,"  would 
not  leave  her  mind.  What  if  William  Olney  per 
sisted  in  his  attention  to  her,  and  she  found  she  did 
really  care  for  him ;  would  it  be  possible  for  her  to 
remove  Rachel's  prejudice  ?  Such  thoughts  will 
float  across  a  person's  mind,  all  out  of  time  and 
place  as  they  are,  and  so  they  flashed  across 
Lyddie's,  and  then  she  blushed,  alone  as  she 
was,  and  put  them  resolutely  away. 

But  the  fact  of  it  is,  any  one  can  see,  that  this 
visit  had  done  the  very  opposite  of  what  it  was 
intended  to  do.  Lyddie  had  hardly  had  the 
thought  before  that  she  could  love  William 
Olney  Price ;  and  the  mere  mention  of  his  peo 
ple  had  been  like  a  cold  shock  to  her,  but  now 
she  felt  that  she  knew  them  better.  She  had  less 
fear  of  them,  and  might  even  win  their  liking ;  and 
William  Olney  had  certainly  demeaned  himself 
well. 

It  was,  we  think,  from  this  visit  of  the  Price's 
that  Hannah's  break  with  the  Quakers  really 
dated.  Not  until  after  this,  did  she  begin  to 
use  rather  harsh  expressions,  and  Enoch,  in  op 
position  to  her,  to  urge  charity.  She  wanted  no 
115 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

charity ;  she  did  not  propose  to  be  smitten  on 
one  cheek  and  then  turn  the  other.  That  was 
exactly  Enoch  Willoughby's  doctrine.  He  liked 
to  pour  coals  of  fire  and  preach  non-resistance. 
Hannah  turned  right  about  in  the  matter  of 
Lyddie  and  William  Olney,  and  said  she  did  not 
want  her  sister  to  marry  a  "canting  orthodox." 
And  Enoch  would  every  time  patiently  correct 
her  by  saying  she  should  not  allow  herself  such 
expressions;  they  led  the  soul  to  malice,  for  it 
was  that  which  cometh  out  that  defiles ;  and 
even  if  the  Prices  had  not  had  the  best  inten 
tions  toward  them,  that  was  nothing  against  the 
other  members  of  the  meeting.  As  for  William 
Gluey,  that  they  could  not  decide ;  they  must 
wait  and  see  what  the  young  man  would  do. 

Enoch  still  persisted  in  reading  and  studying 
the  Bible,  and  believing  and  talking  spiritualism  ; 
and  Hannah  now  began  to  oppose  him.  She  said 
she  had  no  patience  with  him ;  she  didn't  know 
what  he  did  believe  any  longer.  Was  he  going 
to  be  a  Quaker,  and  believe  in  the  Bible  and  stick 
to  it?  If  so,  well  and  good;  then  she'd  know 
what  to  do.  They'd  take  to  going  to  meeting 
again,  and  she  would  face  it  out  with  the  Prices  ; 
they  had  friends  and  plenty  of  them  ;  they  could 
drop  the  name  of  spiritualism.  She  would  en 
courage  the  Price  match  with  Lyddie.  Enoch 
could  keep  down  his  jerking  spirits  in  meeting, 
and  they  would  go  in  for  worldliness  for  good 
116 


FACING   IT   OUT 

and  all ;  but  if  he  was  going  to  be  a  spiritualist, 
to  be  one,  and  take  the  consequences.  He  had 
had  his  beating  in  the  corn-crib,  that  he  was  so 
fond  of  telling  about ; — for  her  part  she  believed 
it  was  mostly  imagination,  and  thinking  about 
old  Paul's  vision  on  his  way  to  Damascus ; — but, 
if  he  was  going  to  follow  its  teaching,  he  had 
better  follow  it ;  hunt  up  the  spiritualists  and  go 
with  them  ;  leave  the  meeting  and  the  orthodox, 
and  quit  talking  about  the  Bible  and  studying  it. 
He  would  be  a  Bible  crank,  anyway,  if  he  kept 
on.  She  didn't  believe  in  doing  things  by  halves 
and  so  forth. 

Enoch's  answer  to  her  tirades  was  good;  it 
indicated  the  whole  character  of  the  man. 

"Hannah,  I  am  not  going  to  try  to  make  any 
thing  be  one  way  or  the  other,"  he  would  say. 
"  I  am  going  to  try  simply  and  earnestly  to  find 
the  truth,  and  then  to  follow  it  and  obey  it  as 
well  as  I  can." 

About  this  time  a  change  came  over  Lyddie. 
She  seemed  not  to  like  so  much  to  listen  to 
Enoch's  discussions  on  spiritualism,  or  to  hear 
Hannah's  somewhat  cutting  expressions  against 
the  Quakers.  She  became  a  little  more  Quaker 
ish  in  some  ways,  and  Hannah  told  her  she  had 
better  wear  a  Quaker  bonnet  and  a  neckerchief 
and  be  done  with  it.  As  for  herself,  Hannah 
said,  she  was  not  going  to  wear  Ac?'  Quaker  bon 
net  any  more  till  she  learned,  if  she  ever  did, 
117 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

which  way  Enoch  went.  If  he  went  back  to 
the  Quakers,  she'd  wear  it ;  and,  if  he  became  a 
spiritualist  for  good,  she'd  send  it  to  her  sister, 
Ruth,  in  Ohio. 

About  this  time,  too,  Enoch  went  to  a  meeting 
of  spiritualists,  urged  on  by  Hannah's  desire  to 
meet  some  people  with  whom  she  thought  they 
might  be  more  in  sympathy.  But  it  did  not 
turn  out  well.  The  "  manifestations "  were 
mostly  in  the  form  of  "performances,"  and  that, 
too,  for  pay,  which  was  contrary  to  all  Enoch's 
ideas.  Some  of  the  performances  were  plainly 
frauds,  and  Hannah  thought  they  should  now 
certainly  know  what  they  were  going  to  do. 
But  here,  as  in  the  former  case  of  the  Prices  and 
the  Quakers,  Enoch  was  consistent  with  himself, 
and  maintained  that  because  some  of  them  were 
frauds  was  no  sign  that  they  all  were  and  that 
we  must  not  judge  a  whole  body  by  some  of  its 
members  only. 

Hannah  now  declared  that  she  would  go  back 
to  the  Quakers  and  be  a  Quaker. 

"Nobody  can  tell  what  thee's  going  to  do, 
or  be,"  she  said;  "thee's  queer,  Enoch.  The 
first  thing  thee  knows  we  won't  be  anything  at 
all." 

This  was  the  direction  then  things  now  took 

for  some  tune.     Hannah  determined  that  they 

should  be  and  remain  Quakers.     She  made  up 

her  mind  that  she  would  talk  to  Lyddie  about 

118 


FACING  IT   OUT 

William  Olney  Price,  and  encourage  the  match. 
She  would  have  Enoch  go  back  to  meeting,  and 
have  him  try  to  keep  still  there ;  she  said  she 
knew  he  could  if  he  only  made  up  his  mind  to ; 
and  if  he  would  quit  reading  the  Bible  so  much, 
and  quit  trying  to  interpret  it  his  own  way,  she 
thought  they  would  be  all  right  and  come  out 
very  well ;  and  in  all  this  she  had  considerable 
influence. 

They  went  back  to  the  meeting  and  Hannah 
"  faced  it  out "  with  the  Prices.  She  was 
somewhat  ashamed  to  look  them  in  the  face  at 
first  as  she  thought  of  how  she  had  berated 
them  at  her  house,  but  she  finally  got  over 
it,  and  began  again  to  feel  a  little  at  home  in 
the  meeting.  Enoch,  too,  found  that  he  was 
able  to  keep  himself  from  going  under  the  in 
fluence  in  the  meeting  if  he  tried  hard  enough, 
and  kept  his  mind  constantly  on  outward  things; 
and  for  a  time  now  all  went  on  smoothly  as  for 
merly,  with  the  exception  of  some  trouble  over 
the  name  of  spiritualist,  which  Enoch  persistent 
ly  used ;  and  about  the  doctrine,  too,  which  he 
as  persistently  theorized  on  and  argued  about. 
But  for  a  long  time  now  the  spiritual  meetings 
must  have  been  mostly  dropped,  and  the  speak 
ing  both  at  home  and  in  meeting  pretty  much 
discontinued. 

There  must  have  been  some  meetings,  how 
ever,  for  William  Olney  was  at  one  or  two  ;  but 
119 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

nothing  startling  or  very  unusual  happened; 
that  is,  nothing  very  strange  to  a  Quaker  boy, 
who  had  been  accustomed  all  his  life  to  seeing 
people  speak  when  under  the  influence  of  the 
spirit.  Lyddie  was  not  "  controlled."  In  some 
way  when  she  sat  in  a  circle  with  William  Ol- 
ney  and  their  hands  touched,  the  influence  did 
not  affect  her. 

Enoch  Willoughby,  of  course,  wrestled  with 
the  spirit  as  often  as  he  would  allow  it  to  come 
upon  him.  But  he  began  to  see  the  impossibil 
ity  of  doing  anything,  that  is  of  converting  any 
one,  by  direct  inspiration.  His  tests  too  were 
often  fallacious,  and  he  turned  more  and  more 
to  argument.  He  did  say,  however,  that  Han 
nah,  who  had  once  or  twice  spoken  in  meeting 
in  a  very  pleasant  voice  and  with  a  very  ready 
and  easy  flow  of  words  and  no  unseemly  move 
ments  of  the  muscles  of  her  face,  was  not  speak 
ing  through  the  spirit  at  all,  but  was  most  likely 
doing  it  herself  ;  and  Hannah  had  retorted  that 
she  considered  it  better  to  do  it  herself  than 
to  act  so  as  to  become  the  laughing-stock  and 
ridicule  of  the  community. 

And  so  it  was  some  considerable  time  before 
William  Olney  began  to  plead  his  cause  again, 
or  learned  of  that  visit  of  his  father  and  mother 
to  the  Willoughbys. 

Lyddie  was  not  all  spirituality  by  any  means. 

120 


FACING   IT   OUT 

She  enjoyed  life  as  all  young  girls  did  in  those 
days  and  ought  to  do  at  all  times. 

She  could  sing  and  she  could  dance ;  she 
could  ride  beautifully  on  horseback  ;  she  went 
to  various  parties  and  country  dances,  spelling 
bees,  and  other  entertainments.  She  even  taught 
little  James,  the  boy  who  had  the  whipping  for 
speaking  disrespectfully  of  his  father,  how  to 
dance  the  Quaker  schottische.  They  called  it 
a  Quaker  schottische  so  that  they  might  be 
allowed  to  dance  it. 

Once  when  she  was  giving  such  a  lesson,  and 
apparently  in  great  spirits,  the  boy  noticed  that 
she  was  crying.  He  asked  her  what  was  the 
matter,  but  she  would  not  answer  him.  He 
coaxed  her  to  tell,  but  Lyddie  hushed  him  up, 
and  distracted  his  attention  by  proposing  some 
other  amusement.  When  they  came  into  the 
house  again,  the  boy  told  out  that  Lyddie  had 
been  crying. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  world  except  his 
father  whom  the  boy  liked  as  he  did  Lyddie ; 
his  mother,  of  course,  but  in  a  different  way. 
His  mother  and  he  understood  each  other 
when  she  petted  him,  smoothed  his  hair, 
patted  his  cheek,  or  when  he  threw  his  arms 
around  her  neck,  or  went  to  her  for  consolation 
when  he  was  hurt — that  was  all  clear.  But  his 
affection  for  Lyddie  and  his  father  was  differ 
ent  ;  here  was  something  mysterious  ;  here  was 
121 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

generally  no  caressing ;  nothing  a  boy  could 
understand,  but  nice  words  always  and  not  a  few 
about  God  and  the  spirit  world. 

The  boy  carne  to  think  that  spirits  were  the 
cause  of  everything,  especially  of  everything  bad, 
and  he  hated  them.  He  had  heard  that  they 
once  drove  his  father  out  from  home  into  the 
wilderness — that  meant  for  him  over  into  the 
big  woods  back  of  Lars  Johnson's — and  then  had 
driven  him  around  and  beaten  him  for  all  those 
six  weeks  he  was  away,  and  made  him  grow- 
white  and  thin  and  blacker-haired  than  ever. 
He  knew  now  his  father  did  not  have  anything  to 
do  with  it ;  it  had  been  only  the  wicked  spirit. 
His  imagination  pictured  the  spirit  out  in  all 
his  awfulness,  with  a  rope  around  his  father's 
neck  and  a  great  ox-goad,  driving  him  about 
among  the  wild  grape-vines  and  tangled  black 
berry  briers  and  thorn-bushes,  and  beating  him. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  he  hated  the  spirit,  and 
felt  now,  in  an  uncertain  way,  that  it  was  at  the 
bottom  of  this  trouble  of  Lyddie's,  and  was 
making  her  cry.  He  clinched  his  little  fist 
tightly,  and  longed  to  be  a  man.  He  would 
show  then  what  he  would  do.  And  in  those 
spiritual  meetings,  when  Enoch  was  controlled, 
and  supposed  he  was  teaching  great  truths  fre 
quently  there  was  a  little  boy  peeping  cautious 
ly  about  to  see  if  he  could  not  get  a  glimpse 
of  the  spirit  somewhere,  and  find  out  where  it 
122 


FACING  IT   OUT 

had  hold  of  him,  and  what  it  was  doing.  He 
used  to  think  ho  would  like  to  stick  pins  into 
its  legs,  and  drive  it  away. 

And  yet  that  father  had  had  a  thousand 
dreams  about  that  boy.  He  had  thought  he 
would  grow  up  and  become  a  learned  man ; 
carry  on  his  teachings,  and  justify  him  and  his 
doctrines  in  the  eyes  of  the  great  world,  may 
be  ;  and  so  half  the  time  we  are  unconscious  of 
the  real  effect  of  our  personalities  upon  those 
about  us. 

In  this  kind  of  life  Lyddie  met  other  young 
men  than  William  Olney  Price ;  one  Aaron 
Melwin,  especially,  accompanied  her  frequent 
ly.  He  possessed  all  the  qualities  that  are 
pleasing  to  a  young  girl.  He  was  handsome, 
of  pleasant  address  and  gentle  voice,  and  was 
always  in  demand.  He  may  not  have  had  very 
much  will  of  his  own,  but  this  lack  perhaps  is 
not  most  noticeable  in  young  men.  We  know 
what  he  became  ;  but  yet  the  very  qualities 
that  go  to  make  a  man  die  in  the  ditch  some 
times  are  the  ones  that  make  him  the  most 
agreeable  and  even  in  some  instances  the 
most  attractive  character  while  he  is  out  of  it. 

Lyddie  ought  to  have  married  William  Ol 
ney  Price  in  spite  of  everything;  they  were 
intended  for  each  other.  She  was  spiritually 
minded  and  he  was  practical;  together  the 
balance  would  have  been  well  preserved  in 
123 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

either  character,  and  they  loved  each  other. 
That  is,  Lyddie  had  certainly  given  some  in 
dication  of  finally  caring  for  William  Olney. 
But  when  he  came  again  after  that  visit  of  his 
father  and  mother,  she  was  changed.  At  first 
she  avoided  him,  and  when  he  did  compel  her 
to  speak  with  him,  she  was  reserved,  and  kept 
the  subject  of  conversation  safely  away  from 
love-affairs.  But  when  William  Olney  finally 
forced  her  to  listen,  she  thought  it  best  to  tell 
him  everything,  and  did  so,  though  when  he 
learned  of  this  visit  and  its  intention,  and 
gathered  all  that  Lyddie  had  said  and  prom 
ised,  it  made  no  difference. 

"  But,  Lyddie,"  he  persisted,  "  the  main 
question  is,  Is  it  true  that  thee  does  not,  and 
cannot  love  me." 

Lyddie  did  not  reply.  She  could  not,  she 
had  nothing  to  say.  She  probably  only  showed 
her  embarrassment. 

"  I  think  I  perceive  that  it  is  not  the  entire 
truth,"  William  Olney  said,  and  in  a  moment 
more  he  would  have  taken  the  girl  in  his  arms 
and  kissed  her. 

But  immediately  she  drew  herself  up,  and  her 
whole  dignity  and  strength  of  will  returned  as 
she  said,  "  William  Olney,  the  question  thee 
urges  is  of  no  importance.  I  have  promised 
thy  mother  not  to  become  thy  wife,  and  wheth 
er  what  I  said  further  to  her  at  that  time  was 
124 


FACING  IT   OUT 

rightly  understood  is  no  matter.  I  have  prom 
ised,  and  thee  may  be  sure  I  will  keep  my 
promise." 

This  carried  the  war  into  Africa,  so  to  speak, 
for  as  William  Olney  went  away  he  said,  "  I 
bid  thee  farewell,  Lydia,  but  thee  may  expect 
another  visit  from  my  mother  soon,  perhaps 
this  very  day ;  and  on  that  visit  she  will  ask 
thee  to  retract  thy  promise,  and  thee  will  do  it 
then,  will  thee  not  ?  " 

But  Lyddie  did  not  answer  directly. 

"  Better  let  it  drop,  William  Olney,"  she  said 
at  last ;  "  thy  mother's  will  might  be  conquered ; 
and,  indeed,  she  did  say  some  beautiful  words 
to  me  that  took  away  the  unpleasantness  of 
the  visit  from  my  mind.  But  thy  mother's 
will  depends  upon  thy  father's  and  that  is 
probably  deeper  and  stronger.  He  will  never 
consent  to  thy  union  with  a  spiritualist,  and 
thee  may  be  sure  Enoch  Willoughby  will  be 
one  as  long  as  the  recollection  of  his  vision 
lasts." 

"  But  thee,  Lydia,"  he  said,  "  thee  is  not 
Enoch  Willoughby  ;  thee  is  not  even  his  daugh 
ter  ;  why  should  his  opinion  so  affect  thee  ?  " 

"  William  Olney,"  she  said  then,  irrelevant 
ly,  "  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  great  spiritual 
separation ;  the  words  of  that  good  woman, 
Loisa  Painter,  are  in  iny  mind  now  as  I  speak 
to  thee ;  and  this  separation  comes  upon  those 
125 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

who  love  one  another,  whether  in  the  family, 
in  the  church,  or  in  the  State.  This  separation 
is  painful  and  I  would  not  be  the  cause  of  it 
between  thee  and  thy  people.  Be  sure  I  shall 
never  be  the  cause  of  it ;  until  thy  father  and 
thy  mother  as  well  as  thyself  desire  me  to  be 
come  a  member  of  thy  family,  I  shall  never 
give  my  consent  to  do  so." 

So  William  Olney  went  quietly  home  and 
spoke  to  his  mother.  She,  poor  woman,  had 
been  expecting  this  for  some  time,  but  could  do 
nothing. 

"It  all  depends  upon  thy  father,"  she  said. 
And  when  William  Olney  asked  her  to  present 
the  matter  to  him,  she  replied  she  had  already 
done  so,  and  he  insisted  that  William  Olney 
should  never  marry  a  spiritualist.  Then  Will 
iam  Olney  went  to  see  his  father  in  the  library. 

There  was  no  violent  discussion,  no  voice 
raised  above  a  conventional  pitch.  The  son 
knew  and  the  father  knew  the  meeting  would  be 
in  vain.  Old  William  Price  had  never  yielded  to 
anything.  You  might  as  well  expect  that  storm 
which  is  caused  by  the  advent  of  unknown 
causes  far  in  the  upper  air  above  the  regions  of 
earth  to  be  checked  in  its  onward  progress  and 
driven  away  by  a  summer  whirlwind. 

In  William  Price's  mind,  Enoch  Willoughby 
and  all  connected  with  him  were  going  straight 
to  the  devil.  That  may  be  a  somewhat  harsh 
126 


FACING  IT  OUT 

way  of  expressing  it,  but  that  was  the  substance 
of  it ;  and  he  was  himself  doing  the  only  right 
thing  in  preventing  this  degrading  union.  There 
was  not  a  worldly  thought  about  it  —  we  must 
give  him  credit  for  that.  In  spite  of  his  closeness 
in  money  matters,  and  desire,  too,  that  his  family 
might  be  continued  in  prosperity  from  gener 
ation  to  generation,  he  would  not  seriously 
have  objected  to  William  Olney  marrying  the 
poorest  girl  in  the  neighborhood ;  but  the  other 
thing,  never.  It  did  not  require  the  repetition 
of  that  word  "  never  "  in  his  case ;  once  was 
sufficiently  emphatic. 

The  two  men  rose,  calm,  moderate,  and  were 
about  to  separate.  But  William  Olney  could 
not  go  without  at  least  justifying  Lyddie. 

"  Thy  will,  father,  in  this  case,  is  absolute,  for 
the  young  woman  has  made  her  own  to  depend 
upon  it.  She  will  not  be  the  cause  of  bringing 
separation  into  my  family." 

"And  in  that,"  William  Price  had  the  heart 
to  answer,  "  she  is  perfectly  correct ;  it  would 
be  wrong  in  her  to  think  otherwise." 

Then  William  Olney  said  : 

"Father,  I  cannot  hope  to  bend  thy  will  any 
more  than  I  can  hope  to  change  her  mind ;  I 
shall  not  try  to  do  either,  for  that  would  be  to 
change  her  against  her  conscience  and  thee 
against  thine.  But  I  know  that  the  young 
woman  is  not  averse  to  me,  and  I  love  her, 
127 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

and  I  shall  never  inarry  another  woman  but 
her.  Consider  well  what  thou  art  doing.  We 
are  a  bloodless  race,  cold  and  not  easily  moved 
to  passion  of  any  kind;  my  sister  is  almost 
past  the  age  when  she  is  likely  to  be  sought 
by  young  men.  The  young  woman  of  whom  I 
speak  is  the  only  one  that  has  ever  attracted 
me  or  is  ever  likely  to  do  so.  Thy  house 
will  be  a  childless  house,  father,  and  thy  race 
become  extinct  in  this  generation  if  thee  per 
sists  in  thy  determination  of  this  day.  And  as 
for  her  belief,  father,  there  is  very  little  differ 
ence  between  that  and  our  own." 

But  here  the  elder  Price  interrupted  him. 

"  Thee  is  speaking  of  that  of  which  thee  knows 
nothing  ;  the  religion  which  these  people  pro 
fess  is  not  a  religion  at  all,  but  a  base  and 
grovelling  superstition;  it  is  even  worse  than 
that,  for  it  is  a  godless  superstition.  They 
would  raise  the  sorcery  and  divination  and 
witchcraft  of  the  Scriptures  into  the  place  of 
the  crucified  Saviour.  What  they  worship  is 
the  power  of  darkness  ;  and  what  one  worships 
he  finally  assimilates  himself  unto,  and  becomes 
identical  with.  It  is  not  a  light  matter  with 
me,  and  I  am  not  taking  an  inconsiderate  step. 
There  is  the  attraction  of  the  broad  road  to 
destruction  in  this  very  thing,  and  those  who 
have  once  entered  it  are  sure  to  follow  it  to  its 
end.  Sad  as  it  would  be  for  me  to  see  all  my 
128 


hopes  blasted,  to  think  that  my  race  would 
die  in  this  generation,  I  had  far  rather  it  would 
be  even  so  than  that  I  should  ever  be  looked 
back  upon  as  the  father  of  a  godless  race  of  un 
holy  and  blaspheming  spiritualists ;  of  mediums 
who  are  no  more  than  necromancers  and  sor 
cerers  ;  who  practise  their  mysterious  incanta 
tions  and  wicked  witchcraft  in  dark  closets  and 
secret  cabinets;  who  prate  of  free  love  and 
atheism  and  infidelity,  but  say  very  little,  I  as 
sure  thee,  of  Christ  and  Him  crucified.  Be 
sure,  oh,  be  sure  I  shall  never  consent  to  re 
ceive  as  a  daughter  of  my  family  a  person  of 
that  accursed  superstition. " 

These  words  were  all  kept  in  that  same  low, 
quiet  tone  that  clearly  indicated  the  thoughts 
were  the  result  of  reason,  not  passion ;  they 
were  thus  forcible  and  persistent. 

But  William  Olney,  too,  was  of  the  same 
quiet  persistency  as  his  father,  and  he  had  not 
exhausted  all  his  reasoning  yet. 

"Father,"  he  said,  "Lydia  has  asked  me  to 
be  present  at  their  meetings,  for  she  is  a 
young  woman  absolutely  without  deception ; 
and,  though  she  did  not  say  so,  I  felt  that 
she  desired  that  I  should  see  and  know  all  they 
did  at  those  meetings,  and  understand  as  far  as 
possible  all  their  position  in  regard  to  this  new 
faith.  I  have  been  present  at  them,  and  saw 
nothing  that  was  startling  or  even  so  very  sur- 
129 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

prising,  except  that  Enoch  Willoughby  acted 
and  spoke  as  he  is  accustomed  to  do  in  meeting, 
perhaps  a  little  more  freely ;  and  in  Lydia  there 
was  no  change  whatever,  though  she  tells  me 
that  the  spirit  has  occasionally  come  upon  her." 

"Did  she  say  the  Holy  Spirit?"  William 
Price  asked. 

"  I  don't  think  she  is  accustomed  to  saying 
that,"  William  Olney  replied;  "and  there  might 
be  an  assumption  on  her  part  in  doing  so ;  but 
I  warrant  thee,  father,  no  one  who  knows  her  as 
I  do  would  ever  think  of  an  unholy  spirit  com 
ing  upon  her,  for  she  is  a  good  woman,  father, 
a  thoroughly  good  woman.  I  do  not  mean  to 
exaggerate  in  this  respect,  but  I  trust  thee  will 
not  attempt  to  say  that  she  is  otherwise,  for  that 
statement  I  feel  I  could  not  properly  listen  to, 
even  from  thee,  father.  As  nearly  as  I  can  gather 
from  her  manner  of  description,  she  has  been  in 
fluenced  not  differently  from  Caroline  Fawcett  or 
Caroline  Wooton,  whom  thee  knows  in  our  meet 
ing  ;  each  of  wThom  I  remember  to  have  spoken 
in  meeting  under  the  influence  many  years  ago, 
when  they  were  quite  young ;  and  Loisa  Painter, 
who  was  here  recently,  was  guided  in  much  the 
same  way." 

"  Oh,  but  that  was  entirely  different,"  William 
Price  answered ;  "  these  were  holy  women,  guid 
ed  by  the  spirit  of  God  and  of  truth ;  but  the 
other  is  the  spirit  of  falsehood  and  deception 
130 


FACING  IT  OUT 

and  darkness.  Beware,  I  say,  oh,  my  son,  be 
ware  how  thou  art  being  led  astray.  Satan  him 
self  may  be  clothed  as  an  angel  of  light,  and  come 
in  form  to  deceive  the  very  elect.  Later  thou 
wilt  find  that  these  so-called  spiritual  mediums 
are  held  by  Indian  spirits  and  lying  spirits,  that 
prophesy  falsely  and  turn  the  soul  to  its  own 
destruction.  Thou  wilt  find  that  their  followers 
are  mostly  fortune-tellers  and  gypsies,  wander 
ers,  straying  about  without  place  or  portion  on 
this  earth  ;  the  very  lowest  of  the  low ;  cheating 
and  deceiving ;  or  else  unbalanced  in  mind,  with 
strange  eyes  and  long,  wizard-like  hair.  Oh  ! 
my  son,  I  would  rather  see  thee  dead  and  buried 
quietly  and  sacredly  in  the  church-yard  of  thy 
fathers,  and  feel  that  thy  place  with  thy  Re 
deemer  hereafter  was  sure,  than  to  see  thee  the 
father  of  a  family  of  children  in  whom  I  felt  the 
taint  of  heretical  and  demoniacal  blood  existed ; 
and  I  thank  merciful  heaven  that  the  woman 
of  whom  thee  is  thinking  has  been  allowed  that 
ray  of  light  and  wisdom  that  she  has  made  her 
acceptance  of  thee  to  depend  upon  my  consent, 
for  that  thee  may  be  sure  thee  will  never  have." 
"Well,  father  " — there  was  the  same  quietness 
and  lack  of  all  outward  signs  of  passion — "I 
have  been  reasoning  on  this  matter  a  great  deal ; 
I  am  sure  thee  is  wrong,  and  I  am  equally  sure 
it  would  be  impossible  to  convince  thee  of  that 
fact — as  difficult  as  it  would  be  for  thee  to  con- 

131 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

vince  ine  that  Lydia  O'Mara  is  not  as  good  and 
true  as  she  is  in  my  eyes  pleasing.  But  this  is 
the  course  of  my  reasoning :  if  I  follow  thy 
counsel  and  put  her  away  from  my  mind,  I  shall 
have  no  feeling  of  friendliness  toward  thee 
henceforth,  thee  may  be  sure  ;  I  shall  regret  all 
my  life  that  I  have  her  not  with  me  as  a  com 
panion,  and  she — if  I  am  right  in  thinking  that 
she  is  not  without  affection  for  me — will  be 
rendered  unhappy,  I  cannot  but  hope,  for  a 
long  time ;  so  that  in  every  way  I  look  at  it, 
this  action  is  bad  ;  equally  bad  for  thee  and  our 
family  ;  bad  for  me  and  bad  for  her,  whose  wel 
fare  I  desire  to  consider  in  the  matter.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  I  should  oppose  thee,  and  marry 
Lydia,  I  am  sure  my  mother  would  soon  become 
reconciled  and  my  sister  also ;  all  but  thee  ; 
thou  wouldst,  of  course,  hold  out,  as  it  is  thy 
nature.  But  Lydia,  I  trust,  would  be  happy 
with  me,  and  I  should  be  confident  of  happiness 
in  her  society.  That  leaves,  then,  all  of  us  bet 
ter  for  the  union  except  thee,  and  thee  would 
not  be  worse  off,  for  I  assure  thee  the  separation 
between  tfcee  and  me  will  be  equally  great  in 
both  cases;  hence  my  conclusion  is  that  I 
should  use  every  effort  in  my  power,  first,  to 
convince  thee  I  am  right ;  and,  next,  to  do 
what  I  consider  right,  whether  thou  art  con 
vinced,  or  dost  remain  unconvinced." 

The  conversation  was  really  over ;  there  was 
132 


FACING   IT   OUT 

little  more  to  be  said.  The  father  added  he 
should  never  give  his  consent.  The  son  as  re 
spectfully  as  possible  reasserted  that  he  should 
do  his  best  to  marry  the  girl  with  or  without  his 
father's  consent,  and  the  two  men  separated. 

William  Olney  regretted  afterward  that  he 
had  not  made  clearer  to  his  father  that  Lyddie 
was  not  a  medium  in  any  bad  sense  of  the  word, 
and  that  he  had  not  laid  greater  stress  on  the 
general  intelligence  and  honesty  and  good  con 
nection  of  the  family,  and  also  on  the  fact  that 
Lyddie  was  not  a  daughter  of  the  Willoughbys, 
and  so  ought  not  to  be  reproached  with  their 
belief,  if  their  belief  was  a  cause  of  reproach. 
But  he  knew  it  would  all  have  been  of  no  use.  He 
knew  that  the  more  good  he  told  of  these  peo 
ple  to  his  father,  the  more  dangerous  his  father 
would  consider  them.  The  one  drachm  of  evil 
in  the  family,  in  his  father's  estimation,  was  more 
than  sufficient  to  leaven  the  whole  lump. 

He  knew  that  his  father  was  prejudiced  with 
a  deep,  set  prejudice  that  could  not  be  uprooted. 

If  he  had  told  him  how  earnest  and  conscien 
tious  a  student  of  the  Bible  Enoch  Willoughby 
was,  his  father  would  simply  have  replied,  "  The 
devil  can  cite  Scripture  for  his  purpose." 

And  now  that  visit  had  aroused  his  father's 

personal  hostility.     It  was  all  too  bad,  but  his 

own  conclusion  had  been  reached,  and  he  should 

follow  it.    He  loved  Lyddie  and  he  should  make 

133 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

her  his  wife.  That  would  cause  a  break  in  the 
family  probably,  but  they  could  both  spend  their 
time  in  doing  their  best  to  heal  the  break.  He 
even  thought  with  some  satisfaction  how  they 
would  go  about  it  to  do  this. 

But  first  he  must  overcome  Lyddie's  objec 
tion,  and  this  he  found  difficult. 

"  Thee  must  not  think,  William  Olney,"  she 
said  the  next  time  he  saw  her  and  was  again 
reasoning  with  her,  "it  is  because  I  have  once 
said  to  thy  mother  I  should  not  accept  thee ;  to 
persist  from  that  cause  would  be  naught  but  ob 
stinacy;  and,  if  it  were  best,  I  should  try  to 
reconcile  my  conscience  to  breaking  that  reso 
lution  ;  but  there  is  something  more,  the  rea 
sons  which  caused  me  to  form  that  resolution 
still  exist.  I  cannot  and  will  not  become  the 
cause  of  separating  thee  from  thy  parents." 

There  was  something  so  unalterably  fixed, 
something  so  much  more  forcible  than  mere 
hasty  resolution  in  her  way  of  speaking,  that 
the  young  man  felt  a  sinking  at  the  heart.  It 
was  then  no  use  ;  he  had  been  deceiving  himself 
with  false  hopes. 

A  feeling  of  despair  came  over  him.  He  only 
said :  "  I  see  thee  does  not  love  me,  Lyclia ;  " 
but  it  was  so  touching  to  hear  him  that  the  girl 
did  what  she  ought  not  to  have  done.  We  can 
not  avoid  giving  comfort  sometimes,  even  when 
we  know  such  comfort  is  wrong. 
134 


FACING   IT   OUT 

"  If  it  would  be  any  satisfaction  to  thee  here 
after,  William  Olney,  any  healing  for  thy  wound 
ed  pride,  if  perchance  thy  pride  is  wounded,  thee 
may  know  that  in  this  thee  has  been  mistaken." 

She  could  go  no  farther ;  a  blush  overspread 
her  face.  She  knew  in  a  moment  she  had  done 
what  she  ought  not  to  have  done.  She  should 
not  have  told  him  ;  she  immediately  made  up 
her  mind  not  to  see  him  again.  She  rose  and 
held  out  her  hand  to  bid  him  good-by. 

Then  she  learned,  what  she  should  have 
known  before,  that  human  nature  is  stronger 
than  Quaker  reserve. 

He  took  her  hand  and  drew  her  to  him  forci 
bly  and  kissed  her  again  and  again,  and  would 
not  release  her.  She  could  not  struggle  against 
him,  and  for  a  moment  her  head  rested  on  his 
breast ;  but  only  for  a  moment.  Then  she  drew 
herself  up  and  freed  herself  from  him.  Some 
thing  like  a  sob  escaped  her,  but  she  controlled 
herself,  and  bade  him  good-by ;  and  he,  poor 
fool,  happy  in  the  intoxication  of  that  first  em 
brace,  went  home  with  his  Quaker  heart  thor 
oughly  warmed  with  that  happiest  experience 
that  comes  in  a  lifetime. 


135 


XIII 

PEACE  TO  OLD  LADY  MARGARET'S  ASHES 

THERE  is  a  disadvantage  in  speaking  a  long 
time  in  advance  of  anything  that  is  to  take  place 
in  a  story,  for  it  gives  the  impression  of  already 
having  happened.  So,  as  we  have  spoken  of 
what  old  Lady  Margaret  "Willoughby  became  in 
her  last  years,  how  irascible  and  difficult  to  care 
for,  also  how  her  estate  was  disposed  of,  or 
something  of  the  kind  about  it,  it  may  have  led 
people  to  think  at  this  time  the  old  lady  was  no 
longer  in  the  land  of  the  living.  That  would, 
however,  be  a  mistake. 

She  was  still  very  much  alive ;  though  her 
husband,  old  Enoch  Willoughby,  the  father  of 
Enoch  P.  the  spiritualist,  had  quietly  passed 
away  several  years  before — dropped  over  out 
of  doors  as  though  he  had  feared  to  go  into  the 
house  lest  he  might  disturb  somebody. 

The  old  lady  remained,  large,  ruddy-faced, 
Victoria-Regina-like  in  appearance,  and  with  en 
ergy  enough  left  to  visit  all  her  more  than  a 
hundred  descendants — children,  grand-children, 
and  great-grandchildren — before  she  died.  So 
she  looked  around  to  see  where  they  could  be 
136 


PEACE   TO   LADY   MARGARET'S  ASHES 

found;  and,  knowing  that  John Willoughby and 
Enoch  Willoughby  were  both  in  Iowa,  she  de 
cided  to  pay  them  a  visit. 

Besides  John  had  been  appealing  to  her  at 
various  times  for  assistance,  and  she  had  sent  him 
occasional  loans — which  neither  lender  nor  bor 
rower  ever  expected  should  be  repaid — out  of 
her  interest,  of  course,  as  she  could  not  make 
encroachments  upon  her  capital.  It  was  natural 
then  she  should  want  to  see  what  John  was 
doing  with  the  money. 

While  she  was  getting  ready  in  Ohio  to  come, 
the  first  trouble  with  the  John  Willoughby  chil 
dren  took  place  out  in  Iowa.  The  oldest  boy 
was  named  Israel.  He  was  proud  and  hand 
some,  but  with  all  those  improvident  ideas  for 
which  the  John  Willoughbys  were  noted.  If 
he  ever  had  any  occupation  when  he  was  young 
and  ever  made  any  money,  he  never  succeeded 
in  saving  any  of  it ;  for,  when  he  married,  which 
event  occurred  about  this  time,  he  had  not  where 
to  lay  either  his  own  or  his  wife's  head,  and — as 
his  father  John  Willoughby  had  in  all  about 
ten  or  eleven  children,  he  could  not  well  think 
of  taking  the  new  Mrs.  Willoughby  there  to  be 
come  an  addition  to  the  family.  The  result 
was  they  came  to  Uncle  Enoch's,  just  for  a  few 
days,  on  a  kind  of  wedding  visit. 

This,  however,  did  not  seem  to  be  about  to  find 
any  fitting  termination,  and  the  result  was  that 
137 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

Enoch  Willoughby  decided  to  find  work  for  the 
young  man,  and  Hannah  thought  they  could  al 
low  Lizzie,  his  wife,  to  turn  her  hand  to  some  use 
ful  purpose  about  the  house  and  so  let  them  earn 
their  living  for  awhile,  and  possibly  get  a  little 
start  until  they  could  find  something  better  to  do. 

While  Lizzie  was  good  to  work,  she  was  proud, 
too,  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  in  fact;  and  she  and 
her  husband,  in  that  respect,  were  much  alike. 
Now  all  went  well  until  Israel  had  worked  a  few 
days,  when  he  wanted  his  pay,  which  he  received 
and  took  to  town  with  him.  It  was  a  small 
amount,  of  course,  and  one  would  think  the 
young  man  would  have  felt  like  economizing  it ; 
but  when  he  came  back  he  was  found  to  have  laid  it 
all  out  in  one  of  those  old-fashioned  gold  hooks, 
such  as  people  sometimes  wore  on  the  end  of  a 
watch-guard  in  those  days,  and  had  bought  a 
ring  for  his  wife  with  what  remained. 

Now  Enoch  felt  it  behooved  him  to  talk  to 
Israel  about  such  extravagance  in  his  circum 
stances  ;  but  Israel  was  too  proud  to  endure  re 
proof,  and  flared  up  iininediatel}r  in  hot  words, 
and  ended  by  taking  the  ring  and  hook  out  to 
the  wood  pile  and  chopping  them  to  pieces. 
Then  Enoch  felt  he  ought  to  reprove  him  for 
this  last  act  also.  Of  course  this  led  to  some 
hasty  words;  Cousin  Lizzie  was  brought  into 
the  trouble,  and  made  some  remarks  about  spir 
itualism.  This  gave  Israel  an  opportunity,  and 
138 


PEACE   TO   LADY   MARGARET'S   ASHES 

he  and  his  wife  both  declared  they  would  not 
live  in  contact  with  so  degrading  a  superstition, 
and  directly  flew  up  the  stairs  and  got  their 
things  together,  and  went  back  to  the  John 
Willoughbys,  whence  they  immediately  wrote  to 
old  Lady  Margaret  for  help. 

This  event  had  not  much  in  it,  except  that 
one  member  of  the  household,  that  same  little 
James  that  we  have  twice  before,  maybe  three 
times,  spoken  of,  thought  the  spirits  had  been 
at  work  again,  which  they  most  surely  had.  He 
retained  for  a  long  time  the  recollection  of 
Cousin  Lizzie  flouting  up  the  stairs  and  slam 
ming  the  door  of  her  room,  followed  soon  by 
Israel ;  he  remembered  also  some  hot  words 
cast  like  brick-bats  upstairs  and  down  between 
his  mother  and  Cousin  Lizzie  when  the  young 
couple  emerged  from  the  room  again  and  were 
about  to  take  their  departure ;  he  remembered 
Enoch's  pacifying  tone  as  he  calmed  matters 
down,  got  the  young  couple  to  shake  hands  ere 
they  departed,  sent  word  to  John  to  come  over 
soon,  and  told  Israel  and  Lizzie  to  come  back  and 
make  them  another  visit ;  and  then  he  remem 
bered  the  sharp  discussion  that  arose  between 
his  father  and  mother ;  in  which  his  sympathies 
were  all  with  his  mother,  of  course. 

"The  idea  of  inviting  them  to  come  back 
again,"  Hannah  said.  "I'd  see  them  in  worse 
straits  than  they're  in  now  before  I'd  ever  invite 
139 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

them  to  pay  another  visit.  The  impudent 
minx! " 

Words  were  easy  with  Hannah. 

"  I  should  think  thee'd  have  more  spirit,"  she 
cried,  "  than  to  let  them  flout  thee  to  thy  very 
face  for  thy  belief,  and  not  even  make  a  reply." 

And  all  this  time  tears  and  occasional  sobs, 
and  finally  reconciliation ;  and  Hannah  in 
Enoch's  arms;  and  then  pretty  soon  the  visit  of 
Uncle  John,  and  all  peace  and  harmony  again ; 
and  soon  after  that  grandmother;  and  then,  after 
that,  more  scenes  of  an  interesting  domestic 
character. 

In  fact,  any  one  can  see  that  this  little  James 
was  a  Willoughby  upon  whom  all  these  things 
must  have  had  a  great  effect. 

And  when  old  Lady  Margaret  did  come,  the 
family  resumed  for  a  time  its  former  Quaker  at 
titude  ;  went  to  the  Quaker  meeting  regularly ; 
Hannah's  Quaker  bonnet  saw  the  light  of  day 
now  very  often;  and  dreams  and  visions  and 
spiritual  meetings  were  relegated  to  the  limbo 
from  which  they  were  perhaps  derived.  Many  a 
good  dinner  was  cooked  and  set  out  for  the 
Friends  who  came  to  visit  the  old  lady,  and  a 
whole  flood  of  respectability  came  back  with  her 
and  enveloped  all  the  ramifications  of  the  very 
numerous  family. 

If  Enoch  said  anything  about  spiritualism  to 
her,  her  principal  argument  was  "  Tut,  tut,"  and 
140 


PEACE  TO   LADY   MARGARET'S   ASHES 

that  succeeded  in  silencing  him  better  than  any 
of  the  preachers  who  had  argued  with  him  did. 
She  kept  the  children  about  the  house  from 
whistling  and  singing;  prevented  them  from 
learning  music,  which  they  had  some  inclination 
to  begin;  checked  and  reproved  Lyddie  for 
teaching  James  the  Quaker  schottische;  and,  if 
she  had  only  stayed  long  enough,  might  even 
have  influenced  William  Price  to  think  that  the 
Willoughbys  were  sufficiently  good  Quakers  to 
be  connected  with  his  family. 

But  all  things  draw  to  a  close,  and  so  did 
finally  the  old  lady's  visit. 

Peace  to  her  ashes !  Bight  in  that  visit,  while 
she  was  the  centre  of  all  the  attentions  of  the 
meeting,  the  most  distinguished  visitor  from  the 
old  Ohio  yearly  meeting  they  had  had  for  many 
a  day,  she  found  several  wells  by  water- witching, 
and  nobody  thought  anything  of  it.  She  said 
the  willow  twig,  when  it  moved  in  her  hands,  felt 
as  though  it  had  life  in  it.  But  all  this  was  only 
queerness,  and  did  not  detract  from  her  high 
respectability  and  commanding  position.  She 
was  a  rare  old  lady ;  and  if  only  she  could  have 
outlived  her  son,  instead  of  him  her,  he  might 
never  have  become  a  martyr  for  a  cause  that  was 
developing  perhaps  from  hereditary  queerness 
only.  Peace  to  old  Lady  Margaret's  ashes  ! 

Little  Jamee  Willoughby  was  all  this  time 
growing  older  and  getting  ready  later  on  to  take 
141 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

his  part  in  our  story.  He  certainly  had  a  sin 
gular  childhood,  made  up  of  strange  notions ;  of 
dreams  and  visions,  and  religious  arguments ;  a 
childhood  of  mysterious  passions,  of  strong  love 
and  bitter  hates  and  constant  checkings  for  both. 
With  a  nature  like  his  mother's,  he  was  quick 
with  passion,  and  ready  to  flame  at  a  moment's 
notice;  but  the  thought  of  his  father's  calm 
reasoning  was  always  there  to  check  him. 

One  moment  he  would  feel  that  he  must  hate 
the  Quaker  meeting  and  the  Sunday-school  and 
everybody  connected  with  them ;  then  he  would 
hear  his  father  talking  about  charity  and  friend 
liness,  and  old  Shubal  Swain,  who  always  re 
mained  the  best  of  friends,  would  come  in,  and 
he  would  feel  that  he  must  like  the  meeting  and 
the  Quakers,  and  hate  the  spirits ;  and  then  he 
would  fill  Shubal's  horses'  feed-boxes  with  an 
extra  amount  of  oats  and  pet  the  horses'  noses 
out  of  pure  reconciliation  with  the  church  and 
God  and  heaven. 

A  thousand  such  recollections  afterward  re 
mained  in  his  mind  from  this  strange  childhood. 

But  then  would  come  the  hatred  of  the  Quak 
ers  again ;  perhaps  his  father  would  come  home 
from  meeting,  humiliated  and  despondent,  and 
the  little  hands  would  be  clinched  and  ready  to 
fight  against  the  Church  and  against  God  and 
Heaven  and  everything. 

Out  of  his  recollections  of  this  childhood,  how- 
142 


PEACE  TO  LADY  MARGARETS  ASHES 

ever,  nothing  was  stronger  than  his  love  for  that 
strange  and  mysterious  father.  What  was  it  about 
him  that  so  fascinated  the  boy,  and  gave  him  that 
deep  love  and  profound  respect  which  for  years 
hid  his  faults  and  made  him  his  ideal  man  ? 

He  could,  years  afterward,  hear  the  old 
horses  drive  up  before  the  house  in  Hesper, 
where  he  boarded,  and  went  to  school  in  winter ; 
he  could  hear  his  father's  voice,  as  he  called  to 
them  and  stopped  them ;  he  could  see  himself 
rushing  out  to  meet  his  father ;  he  could  recall 
a  little  shame  as  he  noticed  something  about  the 
horse  or  sleigh  or  his  father's  dress  that  was 
more  rustic  perhaps  than  even  that  rustic  village 
of  Hesper,  and  then  the  rush  of  shame  at  such  a 
thought ;  did  not  his  father  come  for  him  every 
Friday  night  and  take  him  back  every  Monday 
morning,  and  was  there  not  an  account  always 
open  at  William  Price's  store,  where  he  could 
get  during  the  week  anything  he  wanted  ?  No 
boy  ever  had  a  better  father. 

Then  he  remembered  how,  one  evening,  in 
that  good  Quaker  family  where  he  was  boarding 
—Elijah  Tabor's,  I  think  it  was — he  heard  them 
talking  about  spiritualism.  They  had  forgotten 
that  he  was  around ;  nice,  good  boy,  they  thought ; 
always  reading,  or  playing  on  an  old  melodeon ; 
never  any  trouble. 

Elija  remarked,  "It  is  strange  that  people 
can  be  led  aside  by  so  singular  a  superstition." 
143 


ENOCH   WILLOTJGHBY 

He  doubted,  he  said,  "  if  any  were  really  de 
ceived  by  it ;  it  was  easier  to  believe  that  they 
were  all  frauds  and  deceiving  others  than  that 
any  human  being,  man  or  woman,  could  be  so 
led  astray." 

If  they  had  noticed,  they  might  have  seen  tho 
little  fellow  over  in  the  corner  look  off  his  book. 
He  was  evidently  paying  attention  to  the  con 
versation. 

Elijah  went  on :  "  It  is  only  these  long-haired 
people,  wild-eyed,  and  unbalanced  in  mind,  that 
take  up  with  such  a  belief.  No  respectable  peo 
ple  would  have  anything  to  do  with  it." 

But  this  was  too  much  for  the  boy  ;  his  chiv 
alry  was  aroused ;  the  love  of  father  and  mother 
was  boiling  in  his  heart ;  the  Hannah  O'Mara 
nature,  of  ready  words  and  quick  emotion,  was 
astir  within  him. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  It's  a  lie,  it's  a  lie ! "  he  cried,  and  burst  out 
sobbing. 

Then  he  threw  down  his  book,  got  his  hat 
and  coat,  and  was  putting  them  on  when  good 
Sarah  Tabor,  who  had  been  like  a  mother  or  a 
kind  aunt  to  her  little  boarder,  went  to  him  and 
said,  in  her  mildest  and  gentlest  voice  :  "  James, 
thee  mustn't  take  things  so  to  heart ;  nobody 
meant  thy  father  or  mother ;  nobody  thought  of 
them." 

The  boy  was  now  sobbing  and  hysterical. 
144 


PEACE  TO  LADY  MAEGARET'S  ASHES 

"Elijah  will  tell  thee  himself,  he  did  not 
mean  thy  father,"  she  continued,  soothingly. 
Then,  seeing  he  was  about  to  go  out,  she  asked : 
"  Where  is  thee  going,  James  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  home,"  the  boy  replied.  "  I  won't 
stay  here." 

"  But  thee  cannot  go  home  this  cold  night  all 
that  distance,"  the  good  woman  said.  "I  can 
not  allow  thee  to ;  thee  is  placed  in  my  charge, 
and  thee  might  get  lost  and  perish  in  the  snow." 
So  with  her  mild  voice  and  her  calm  reasoning 
she  pacified  him  ;  took  his  coat  from  him,  and 
got  him  to  go  off  to  his  room. 

When  she  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  they 
talked  about  the  incident,  those  dear,  good 
Friends  ;  they  said,  how  careful  one  must  be  of 
what  enters  into  the  ear  of  childhood;  they 
spoke  of  how  easily  the  little  emotions  are 
stirred,  and  how  hard  it  is  to  calm  them  ;  and 
of  how  filial  love  is,  and  perhaps  should  be, 
stronger  than  all  belief. 

For  a  long  time  little  James  was  ashamed  to 
look  Aunt  Sarah  in  the  face  ;  and  for  a  long 
time  Aunt  Sarah  gave  the  boy  extra  care  and 
unusual  kindness;  buttoned  his  coat  for  him 
when  he  went  out,  and  made  him  put  a  cloth 
around  his  throat  at  the  least  sign  of  a  cold. 
And  yet  now  from  this  incident  the  boy  first  be 
gan  to  feel  that  he  belonged  to  a  different  class 
of  people  from  those  among  whom  he  lived. 
145 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

Then  the  boy's  mind  was  filled  constantly 
with  opposite  impressions,  and,  like  a  tree 
blown  by  opposing  blasts,  now  swayed  in  one 
direction,  now  in  another,  might  at  last  be  ex 
pected  to  stand  erect  and  point  only  to  Heaven 
in  spite  of  all  the  winds  that  blew  upon  it. 

Every  boy,  I  suppose,  must  have  a  hero,  who, 
like  his  first  sweetheart,  is  apt  to  be  a  little 
older  than  himself,  and  little  James  was  no  ex 
ception.  This  particular  hero  was  "  'Gene,"  in 
other  words,  Eugene  Beatty,  the  oldest  son  of 
Doc  Beatty,  a  Hicksite,  who  still  attended  the  or 
thodox  meeting  because  there  were  not  enough 
of  his  own  persuasion  to  form  an  independent 
assembly ;  a  man  who  was  not  wrapped  up  in 
any  form  of  religion,  who  paid  a  fair  amount  of 
attention  to  the  world,  made  a  good  living,  trav 
elled  about  over  the  country,  and  thus  saw  a 
great  many  people  and  improved  his  judgment. 
He  had  none  of  the  prejudice  of  the  members 
of  the  meeting  against  Enoch  Willoughby.  He 
was  his  family  physician,  and  as  he  thought 
most  likely  his  vagaries  could  never  amount  to 
anything,  he  looked  upon  them  as  rather  harm 
less,  unless  he  should  carry  them  too  far  and  so 
possibly  go  a  little  daft  over  them  and  injure 
himself ;  the  idea  of  his  injuring  any  one  else 
never  entered  his  head. 

Impressionable  children  feel  these  unex 
pressed  opinions  about  them,  one  hardly  knows 

146 


PEACE  TO   LADY   MARGARET'S   ASHES 

how.  Little  James  felt  in  some  way  that  Dr. 
Beatty's  family  were  friendly.  He  had  become 
acquainted  with  'Gene  in  school,  and  had  once 
gone  home  with  him.  There  he  had  fallen  in 
love  immediately  with  the  whole  family ;  with 
'Gene  and  his  brother  and  his  adopted  sister; 
with  the  doctor  and  his  good,  motherly  wife ; 
with  the  organ,  the  violin,  and  the  dulcimer  and 
numerous  other  musical  instruments  they  all 
played  on  more  or  less ;  with  the  old  tiger  cat 
and  friendly  Newfoundland  dog,  that  formed 
regular  inmates  of  the  household;  even  the 
doctor's  horse  and  buggy  had  come  in  for  a 
share  of  his  admiration.  It  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  the  very  odor  of  drugs  one  always 
detected  there  formed  the  pleasantest  fragrance 
that  ever  entered  his  youthful  nostrils. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  was  a  most  faithful 
follower  of  'Gene.  Follower?  Nay,  admirer, 
lover !  And  'Gene,  who  was  not  averse  to  ad 
miration,  allowed  and  accepted  all  this  homage ; 
but  himself  preferred  to  spend  his  admiration 
on  a  man,  on  some  one  who  was  old  enough  to 
have  horses  and  a  sleigh;  who  had  been  away 
from  Hesper  and  seen  the  world ;  in  a  word,  on 
William  Olney  Price,  who  had  once  been  near 
enough  his  own  age  to  be  'Gene's  companion  in 
an  occasional  tramp  in  the  woods,  but  who, 
since  he  had  come  back  from  Providence,  had 
outgrown  his  old  acquaintance. 
147 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

Now,  when  William  Olney  Price  saw  little 
James  with  'Gene,  he  remembered  the  boy's 
friendship  for  Lyddie.  Ever  since  that  last 
visit  Lyddie  had  resolutely  refused  to  see  Will 
iam  Olney,  and  the  poor  fellow  had  all  this  time 
been  in  a  bad  state  indeed.  When,  now,  he  saw 
this  boy  from  the  Willoughbys,  it  was  a  con 
necting  link  with  Lyddie's  surroundings. 

He  asked  him  how  the  folks  at  home  were, 
and  the  boy  said,  simply,  "  They  are  well." 

He  then  asked  if  his  grandmother  was  still 
there,  and  the  boy  seemed  to  think  that  "No" 
was  all  the  reply  that  question  required. 

Then  William  Oluey  asked  him  when  she  had 
gone,  and  where  she  had  gone,  with  many  other 
questions  about  her,  until  one  would  have 
thought  that  William  Oluey  was  greatly  in 
terested  in  old  Margaret  Willoughby.  He  asked 
if  James's  father  had  had  the  asthma  lately, 
and  whether  his  uncles,  Mose  and  Eck,  had  re 
turned  from  Prairie  du  Chien  or  La  Crosse — 
which  place  was  it  they  had  gone  to  ?  Couldn't 
the  boy  tell  him  anything  about  Lyddie  ?  Didn't 
he  know  she  was  the  only  one  at  all  he  cared  to 
hear  about  ?  If  he  had  not  felt  like  taking  the 
boy  in  his  arms  and  hugging  him  for  ever 
having  been  near  the  dear  girl,  breathed  the 
same  air,  and  lived  in  the  same  house  with 
her,  he  could  have  punished  him  for  his  ob- 
tuseness. 

148 


'Gene  thought  William  Olney  was  becoming 
remarkably  friendly  again,  and  was  greatly  sur 
prised  when  he  asked  the  boys  if  they  would 
like  to  take  a  sleigh  ride  after  school.  They 
were,  of  course,  glad  to  go.  He  took  them  sep 
arately,  'Gene  first,  who  liked  the  ride ;  except 
that  he  thought  it  very  much  too  short;  and 
next  James.  But  when  William  Olney  found 
himself  with  James,  the  nearest  he  could  get  to 
conversation  about  Lyddie  was  to  ask  him  if  his 
aunt  liked  to  go  sleigh-riding.  Ridiculous !  And 
to  talk  of  her  was  all  that  he  had  taken  him 
sleigh-riding  for. 

It  was  time  to  go  back.  The  boy's  eyes 
sparkled  with  enjoyment  of  the  ride,  the  crisp 
snow,  the  sharp  air,  and  the  sleigh-bells.  Will 
iam  Olney  had  half  a  mind  to  tell  him  the  whole 
story,  his  love  for  Lyddie,  and  how  the  spirits 
had  interfered  with  it.  Would  he  understand  ? 
He  looked  like  an  intelligent  boy  ;  had  clear, 
blue  eyes,  a  face  like  his  father's,  but  with  his 
mother's  hair  and  skin ;  that  is,  with  Lyddie's 
complexion.  And  noticing  these  things  William 
Olney  had  a  sudden  impulse. 

"  Boy,  I  love  thy  Aunt  Lydia." 

The  conversation  thus  begun,  the  boy  remem 
bered  for  years  its  earnestness,  its  intensity. 
William  Olney  could  hardly  have  found  it  more 
difficult  to  make  his  first  proposal  to  Lyddio 
herself.  The  boy  was  almost  afraid  of  him,  he 
149 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

seemed  so  much  in  earnest.      He  did  not  know 
what  to  reply,  and  said  nothing. 

Then  William  Olney  went  on.  "I  love  her, 
I  think,  as  well  as  any  man  could,  and  I  thought 
she  cared  for  me.  She  said  so ;  but  since  then 
I  have  thought  she  said  that  only  to  keep  her 
words  from  being  too  painful.  Tell  me,  does 
thee  think  thy  aunt  cares  anything  for  me ;  does 
she  ever  speak  about  me  ?  " 

He  corrected  himself  hastily. 

"  No,  she  would  not  do  that.  Has  thee  ever 
noticed  anything  that  might  lead  thee  to  think 
she  liked  me  ?  Was  thee  at  home  the  last  time 
I  came,  when  Lyddie  would  not  see  me  ?  What 
did  she  do  ?  Where  was  she  all  the  time  ?  " 

He  spoke  rapidly,  question  after  question, 
without  waiting  or  expecting  any  answer.  When 
the  boy  finally  succeeded  in  saying  in  reply 
to  the  last,  "She  sat  upstairs  and  cried,"  he 
went  on : 

"  She  cried  ?  Did  thee  say  she  sat  upstairs  and 
cried  ?  They  are  the  best  words  I  think  I  ever 
heard.  Not  that  I  would  like  to  have  her  cry  ? 
but  I  am  so  glad  she  cried.  Did  she  cry  long  ; 

I   hope   it   wasn't long,  that  is  I  hope  she 

cried  long  and  hard." 

The  boy  remembered  for  years  how  the  man 
looked. 

"  No,  no,  thee  can't  understand,"  William  Ol 
ney  said,  finally  ;    "  let  us  drive  on  home." 
150 


PEACE   TO   LADY  MARGARETS  ASHES 

He  let  out  the  swift  horses,  and  they  fairly 
flew  over  the  hard  packed  snow  on  their  return. 

After  this  little  James  found  he  had  such  a 
friend  as  never  before.  He  had  sleigh-rides  and 
books,  and  skates,  until  the  boys  were  envious 
of  him. 

It  almost  broke  up  the  friendship  between 
him  and  'Gene,  and  would  have  done  so  per 
haps  if  'Gene  had  not  thought  it  best  to  keep  on 
the  good  side  of  one  who  could  be  so  liked  by 
William  Olney  Price. 

And  all  these  attentions  were  faithfully  nar 
rated  to  Lyddie,  and  all  these  presents  carried 
home  and  shown  her;  everything  William 
Olney  said  to  the  boy  was  faithfully  repeated  to 
her,  and  everything  she  said  was  as  carefully  re 
peated  to  William  Olney ;  but  not  a  note  or  a 
direct  message  passed  between  them. 


151 


XIV 

ENOCH  TALKS   WITH  WILLIAM   PRICE 

THE  next  happening  was  certainly  unusual 
and  came  about  in  this  way.  It  was  a  little  like 
the  pig  that  went  to  market  and  would  not  cross 
the  stile.  Reason  about  it  or  think  about  it  as 
he  would,  William  Olney,  every  time,  came 
against  spiritualism  as  the  cause  of  all  the 
trouble.  Lyddie  was  not  a  girl  to  be  influenced 
solely  by  her  own  wishes ;  she  felt  she  was  do 
ing  right,  and  the  fact  that  her  inclinations  were 
against  her  decision  would  rather  strengthen  it 
than  otherwise.  She  had  thought  the  matter 
over  with  many  tears,  and  she  had  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  she  must  take  her  stand.  She 
had,  therefore,  quietly,  but  firmly,  refused  to  see 
William  Olney  again,  and  all  Hannah's  persua 
sions  or  William  Olney's  messages  had  been  of 
no  avail.  When  he  had  come  to  see  her,  she  had 
remained  out  of  the  room,  crying  it  is  true,  as 
we  have  seen,  but  that  made  no  difference.  She 
could  not  be  moved,  or  rather  the  only  effective 
persuasion  would  have  to  come  from  William 
Price.  But  William  Price  was  equally  immov 
able.  The  only  possible  thing  that  could  influ- 
152 


ence  him  would  be  for  Enoch  Willoughby  to  re 
nounce  his  spirits  and  acknowledge  only  the  Holy 
Spirit ;  in  other  words,  to  become  a  Quaker  and 
remain  one  with  all  his  family.  So  it  was  a 
case  of  "  Fire  burn  stick  ;  stick  beat  pig." 

The  moving  motive  in  the  chain  of  cause  and 
effect  must  be  William  Gluey  himself ;  but  he 
could  have  no  effect  on  his  father,  and  could  not 
reach  Lyddie  in  any  way  to  influence  her. 

There  remained  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  to 
influence  Enoch  in  some  way  to  take  his  part. 
Were  these  two  beliefs  so  irreconcilable? 
Wasn't  it  largely  imagination  on  the  part  of 
each  of  them  that  made  the  difference  ?  If  his 
father  and  Enoch  Willoughby  could  again  come 
together  and  compare  notes  on  their  faiths, 
perhaps  some  reconciliation  might  be  possible. 
He  did  not  know,  or  else  he  did  not  stop  to  con 
sider,  how  frequently  and  long  they  had  com 
pared  notes  on  the  investigation  committee,  and 
only  strengthened  each  other  in  obstinacy.  Since 
that  investigation  had  begun,  Enoch  had  studied 
the  Bible  more  persistently,  had  had  more 
dreams,  and  had  magnified  more  little  and  un 
important  things  into  religious  significance  than 
ever  before,  and  had  been  given  a  great  lift  upon 
the  very  road  he  was  travelling.  At  the  same 
time  William  Price  and  those  who  had  entered 
with  him  into  the  matter,  had  strengthened  them 
selves  in  their  own  opposition,  and  what  they 
153 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

had  considered  before  as  mere  peculiarities  in 
Enoch  Willoughby,  they  now  considered  to  have 
been  sure  indications  of  his  downward  progress 
toward  heresy.  It  wras  vain  to  bring  these  two 
together.  They  had  better  have  been  kept 
apart,  but  to  bring  them  together  was  the  only 
thing  it  seemed  possible  under  the  circum 
stances  for  William  Olney  to  do,  and  he  must 
do  something. 

He  therefore  visited  Enoch  Willoughby  and 
asked  him  plainly :  "  Does  thee  think,  Enoch, 
that  the  difference  between  thyself  and  my 
father  is  irreconcilable  ?  Might  it  not  be 
healed  ?  Is  it  not  a  little  thing  ?  Could  you 
not  come  together  and  so  not  bring  about  this 
separation  that  I  feel  is  going  to  be  very  hard 
for  some  of  us  to  bear?" 

And  Enoch  replied :  "  It  is  no  small  matter 
that  thee  suggests,  William  Olney ;  we  have  tried 
to  come  together,  but  have  only  succeeded  thus 
far  in  getting  farther  apart.  However,"  he  con 
tinued,  "  if  thee  wishes,  I  will  again  seo  thy 
father  and  once  more  go  over  the  grounds  of 
our  reasoning." 

And  this  last  hope  William  Olney  now  nour 
ished  and  made  much  of ;  but  he  might  as  well 
have  hoped  that  the  north  wind  and  the  south 
wind  should  blow  together,  or  each  blow  both 
hot  and  cold. 

Hannah,  too,  said  that  Enoch  would  have  his 
154 


ENOCH   TALKS  WITH   WILLIAM   PKICE 

visit  for  nothing.  He  had  better  let  William 
Price  alone  and  stay  away  from  him.  The  only 
thing  was,  as  she  had  said,  to  make  up  his  mind 
that  he  was  a  Quaker  or  ivasn't ;  to  stay  with 
them  or  leave  them.  He  ought  to  have  some 
mind  or  other  of  his  own ;  pretty  soon  he'd  be 
like  the  bats  and  be  neither  bird  nor  beast.  He 
ought  to  make  up  his  mind  what  he  was  going 
to  do  before  he  went,  and  then  he  wrould  know 
whether  to  go  or  not.  If  he  was  going  to  stick 
to  spiritualism,  he  might  just  as  well  stay  away ; 
he  would  only  excite  hard  feelings  by  going. 
William  Price  would  call  it  sorcery,  and  witch 
craft,  and  dernonology,  and  necromancy,  and 
talk  of  the  Witch  of  Endor,  and  Elymas  the 
Sorcerer,  and  only  make  them  both  more  bitter. 
Let  him  stay  away.  Let  William  Olney  persuade 
Lyddie  of  his  own  accord,  in  his  own  way.  It 
was  a  pity  if  he  couldn't  find  some  way  to  in 
fluence  the  girl.  If  she  were  a  young  man  with 
all  William  Olney's  advantages,  she  thought  she 
could  find  some  means  of  influencing  a  girl  like 
Lyddie.  And  if  she  went  on  and  persisted  in 
her  obstinacy,  let  her  take  the  consequences, 
marry  Aaron  Melwin,  as  she  most  likely  would, 
and  live  the  wife  of  a  drunkard ;  for  it  was  said 
the  young  man  already  did  drink  and  would 
most  likely  go  right  on  to  his  own  destruction. 

But  Enoch  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  pay 
ing  little  attention  to  what  Hannah  said ;  she 
155 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

said  too  much,  and  was  too  ready  with  her 
tongue.  So  then  he  decided  to  make  a  friendly 
visit  to  William  Price's  and  talk  over  matters 
and  see  what  conclusions  they  could  come  to. 

Hannah  had  to  have  one  last  word  before  he 
went. 

"  Enoch,"  she  put  in,  as  he  went  away,  "  if  I 
were  a  man,  I  shouldn't  go  near  William  Price ; 
I  would  believe  what  I  pleased,  and  keep  it  to 
myself.  Thee  knows  thyself,  Loisa  Painter  told 
thee,  thee  doesn't  know  anything  about  what  is 
the  matter  with  thee ;  whether  thee  has  spirits, 
religion  or  what ;  and  so  thee's  got  to  make  up 
thy  mind  about  it  some  time  or  other  and  then 
follow  thy  own  mind  and  be  what  thee  wants  to 
be  and  let  other  people  alone.  Thee'll  cut  a 
sorry  figure  going  to  William  Price's.  He'll  think 
thee  mercenary  and  that  it's  self-interest ;  he'll 
give  thee  no  credit  for  thy  com-crib  vision,  thee 
may  be  sure,  and  if  thee'd  take  my  advice, 
thee'd  stay  at  home  and  attend  to  thy  own  con 
cerns.  I  think  anyway  that  Lyddie  is  the  one 
to  give  up  if  any  one  does.  She's  the  one  to  be 
most  benefited  by  it  and  most  injured  by  it  if 
she  doesn't  give  up.  She's  young  and  ought 
not  to  be  so  set  in  her  ways.  Let  her  go  over 
to  the  Quakers  body  and  spirit  and  become  one 
of  them.  It  wouldn't  do  her  any  great  harm  ; 
and,  if  she  doesn't  want  to  do  that,  why,  Jet  her 
stick  to  her  own  views  and  carry  William  Olney 
156 


ENOCH  TALKS  WITH   WILLIAM  PEICE 

along  with  her.  His  father  will  soon  yield  to 
the  inevitable,  and  if  he  doesn't  at  first,  he  will 
later  on.  If  they  ever  have  children,  the  inno 
cence  in  the  eyes  of  a  grandchild  is  more  power 
ful  than  any  religious  belief ;  and,  if  they  are 
never  reconciled  in  life,  why  then  they  may  be 
reconciled  hereafter  in  Heaven,  who  knows ; 
and  if  that  never  happens,  there  is  room  enough 
in  this  universe  for  two  souls  to  walk  apart 
always.  If  I  were  thee,  I  should  stay  at  home 
and  let  the  matter  take  its  own  course." 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  Hannah,"  Enoch  said  as  he 
kissed  her  and  went  on  his  way,  "  I  fear  thee 
has  not  a  particle  of  religion  of  thy  own,  not  a 
particle." 

But  he  turned  and  came  back  to  her  after  he 
had  gone  some  distance,  to  say  another  word  and 
so  deaden  the  harshness  of  his  last  expression. 

"  Think  how  beautiful,  Hannah,  if  this  differ 
ence  might  be  put  aside,  and  thy  sister,  Lyddie, 
be  united  to  the  man  of  her  choice,  and  we 
could  return  to  the  meeting  in  peace  and  har 
mony  with  all.  I  am  hopeful  that  it  may  still 
be  so,  and  I  go  in  all  humility  and  submission 
of  spirit,  trusting  that  something  good  and  only 
good  may  come  of  our  conversation." 

Then  he  turned  and  this  time  succeeded  in 
getting  away.  But  he  went  slowly  and  thought- 
fully. 

"I  am  doing  this  of  myself,"  he  said,  "and 
157 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

it  is  not  of  the  spirit ;  I  am  therefore  liable  to 
be  in  the  wrong,  and  it  behooves  me  to  be  care 
ful.  Will  it  be  given  to  me  what  to  say  ?  " 

He  felt  instinctively  that  it  would  not.  This 
matter  he  should  have  to  do  of  himself,  and 
singularly  enough  there  was  no  one  in  the 
world  whom  he  distrusted  more  than  himself, 
and  yet  there  was  not  one  who  was  likely  to  do 
more  nearly  the  right  thing.  When  Enoch 
Willoughby  followed  his  own  judgment,  unin 
fluenced  by  the  opposition  or  zeal  of  others,  or 
by  spirits  or  dreams  or  visions,  he  was  as 
sure  to  do  right  as  any  one  can  be  ;  but  the 
man  all  his  life  thought  the  exact  opposite  was 
true.  Even  now  he  would  have  given  the  world 
for  some  slight  manifestation.  If  he  could  but 
hear  a  voice  or  see  a  sign,  or  feel  some  intuitive 
guidance,  he  would  have  gone  boldly  on  his 
mission,  and,  be  sure,  he  would  have  made  a 
botch  of  it.  But  there  was  not  a  sign,  not  a 
voice,  not  a  vision.  Evidently  the  spirits  meant 
him  to  work  out  this  matter  himself.  Per 
haps  on  great  occasions  like  this  they  distrusted 
themselves  a  little,  and  remained  away. 

And  so  Enoch  Willoughby  came  to  Hesper, 
pondering  what  he  should  say  to  William  Price. 
What  he  longed  to  do  was  to  enter  into  an  ar 
gument  with  him,  in  which  he  should  bring  up 
all  the  passages  in  the  Bible  that  were  relevant, 
fairly  flooding  William  Price  and  overwhelming 
158 


ENOCH   TALKS  WITH   WILLIAM   PRICE 

him,  to  prove  the  spirit  life  and  spirit  communi 
cation.  He  would  have  liked  to  prove  that  he 
himself  was  a  direct,  lineal  descendant  in  the 
spiritual  line  from  George  Fox  and  the  Penn 
Quakers,  and  still  walking  in  all  respects  in 
their  original  ways.  But  he  felt  that  he  must 
forego  this  pleasure.  "  Argument  is  not  per 
suasive,"  he  said,  and  now  his  business  was  to 
persuade.  To  do  this  he  must  stand  on  a  high 
plane  of  disinterestedness  and  friendliness,  and 
yet  he  had  no  idea  of  retracting  a  particle.  He 
must  not  allow  himself  to  be  aroused  or  excited 
in  the  least. 

"If  I  could  only  catch  the  lofty  spirit  of 
Paul,"  he  said.  The  man  only  half  lived  in  this 
life  ;  the  other  half  was  in  the  lives  of  the  apos 
tles,  whom  he  revered ;  and  of  Jesus,  whom 
he  worshipped."  And  yet,  no  doubt,  when  he 
said  if  he  could  only  catch  the  spirit  of  Paul, 
he  meant  if  the  spirit  would  come  on  him  and 
influence  him  in  some  bodily  or  physical  way. 
His  imagination  represented  all  these  persons 
and  influences  to  him  in  a  tangible,  visible 
form. 

When  he  came  to  the  village,  he  felt  more 
and  more  his  dependence  on  himself,  and  his 
inability  to  do  the  right  thing  in  the  situation. 
He  thought  he  would  not  go  directly  to  William 
Price's,  he  would  go  and  see  if  James  was  at 
home  at  Elijah  Tabor's.  He  met  the  boy  com- 
159 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

ing  out  to  go  to  school,  and  probably  the  near 
est  approach  he  had  to  a  spiritual  impression 
on  this  occasion  was  the  thought  of  taking  the 
boy  with  him  ;  the  boy  was  only  afraid  he 
should  be  late  for  school,  and  hoped  his  father 
would  not  stay  long. 

Inside  William  Price's  house,  the  family  were 
gathered  in  the  sitting-room  after  breakfast,  and 
were  about  to  go  apart  for  the  day  when  Enoch 
Willoughby  was  announced. 

"  He  has  come  to  speak  to  thee,  father,  at  my 
request,"  William  Olney  explained ;  and  at 
this  Sally  and  Kachel  Price  arose  and  went 
out  and  William  Olney  followed  them.  Then 
Enoch  Willoughby  and  his  son  came  in.  They 
exchanged  greetings  with  William  Price  and 
sat  down,  and  there  began  a  conversation,  to 
which  the  whole  of  the  family  soon  gathered  as 
listeners.  Kachel  Price  passed  through  the 
room  once  or  twice  before  she  finally  stopped 
and  openly  remained.  Sally  was  unable  to 
resist  her  curiosity,  and  William  Olney  had 
not  been  sure  from  the  first  but  he  ought 
to  take  a  part  in  the  conversation.  The  scene 
remained  in  the  boy's  mind  for  many  a  year. 
Its  intense  earnestness  was  almost  painful. 

When  Enoch  began  to  speak,  ho  rose. 

"  I  have  been  urged  by  thy  son  to  take  this 
step,  William,"  he  said,  "  on  his  representation 
that  thy  objection  to  thy  son's  marriage  with 
160 


ENOCH  TALKS  WITH  WILLIAM  PRICE 

the  young  woman  of  his  choice,  was  based 
solely  on  difference  of  belief,  of  which  differ 
ence  I  know  myself  to  be  the  cause.  If  this 
were  not  the  case,  I  should  not  have  come.  If 
it  were  difference  of  station  in  life,  of  posses 
sions,  of  age,  or  of  character,  I  should  not  have 
come ;  but,  since  it  is  as  it  is,  I  have  thought 
perhaps  by  reasoning  together,  we  might  still 
find  our  differences  were  not  so  great  as  neces 
sarily  to  bring  about  this  painful  separation  be 
tween  the  young  man  and  the  young  woman." 

"  Enoch  Willoughby,"  William  Price  said,  not 
attempting  any  concealment  of  his  interest,  or 
any  indirection,  "  there  can  be  but  one  outcome 
to  this  conversation.  I  am  surprised  that  my 
son  has  suggested  it,  and  still  more  so  that  thee 
has  undertaken  it." 

His  words  were  few  and  rather  calculated  by 
the  tone  to  prevent  or  check  the  coming  con 
versation.  Enoch  Willoughby  was  not,  how 
ever,  to  be  checked  by  a  tone  of  voice,  and  con 
tinued,  calmly : 

"  Let  me  assure  thee  first  of  one  thing,  Will 
iam.  I  think  as  thee  does  in  this,  that  it  would 
be  more  than  useless  for  us  to  enter  into  dis 
cussion  of  religious  belief.  It  is  with  consider 
able  regret  that  I  acknowledge  this,  for  nothing 
is  more  pleasing  to  my  mind  than  to  search  the 
Scriptures ;  and,  having  found,  to  remember, 
and  remembering,  to  bring  forward,  what  is 

161 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

contained  therein,  to  confute  error,  to  establish 
positions,  and  to — 

"  That  is  the  very  thing,"  William  Price  in 
terrupted  ;  "  theo  would  warp  the  Scriptures  to 
thy  own  use." 

"  I  will  not  deny,"  Enoch  went  on,  determined 
to  be  pacific,  "  that  there  is  danger  of  that  which 
thou  sayest ;  but,  in  this  case,  it  seemed  to  me 
best  not  to  enter  into  such  discussion;  rather 
indeed  to  ask  thee,  Is  it  worth  while  to  sepa 
rate  those  who  could  be  united  in  spirit  because 
of  so  slight  a  difference  in  religious  belief  ?  " 

The  man  spoke  with  humility,  but  yet  with  a 
conscious  dignity  that  put  him  in  the  right  and 
the  other  in  the  wrong.  He  was  concessive 
and  pacific,  high  in  tone  ;  and,  backed  as  he 
was  by  a  good  character,  a  good  family,  a  long 
line  of  respectable  antecedents,  and  with  im 
portant  connections  among  the  Friends,  there 
was  something  about  his  attitude  that  to  Will 
iam  Price  seemed  patronizing  or  condescend 
ing,  and  angered  him.  He  allowed  his  feeling 
to  get  the  better  of  him. 

"  Does  thee  consider  the  difference  so  slight, 
Enoch  Willoughby  ?  Thy  perception  has  per 
haps  become  dulled  by  too  familiar  association. 
I  can  only  tell  thee  what  I  think,  and  thee  can 
make  the  best  of  it.  The  belief  that  thee  pro 
fesses  is  nothing  but  a  kind  of  ancestor  wor 
ship;  thee  would  set  up  a  totem  pole  of  an 
162 


ENOCH  TALKS   WITH  WILLIAM  PRICE 

Alaskan  Indian  in  the  place  of  the  crucified 
Saviour.  That  which  to  the  right-minded  man 
causes  a  shock  of  ghostly  disgust,  by  close  as 
sociation  thee  has  learned  to  appreciate,  to  ex 
alt  and  to  reverence.  Thee  is  on  the  high  road 
to  ruin  ;  I  can  but  say  to  thee,  I  think  thee  de 
ceived,  perhaps  purposely  allowed  to  be  chosen 
by  the  Most  High  as  an  instrument  for  the  de 
ception  of  the  unwary,  and  it  is  only  worse  than 
useless  that  we  should  discuss  the  matter  again." 

He  spoke  as  though  he  had  finished,  done, 
settled  the  whole  matter,  now  and  forever.  He 
spoke,  too,  with  so  much  feeling  that  he  was  no 
doubt  unconscious  of  the  sting  contained  in  his 
words,  how  sharp  and  severe  and  cutting  they 
were. 

Enoch  continued  calm  and  gentle. 

"Thee  has  touched  there,"  he  began  again, 
quietly,  "  upon  a  subject  of  great  soreness  with 
me,  and  thee  may  be  right ;  yet  for  my  sake 
and  for  the  sake  of  those  connected  with  me, 
I  trust  thee  is  indeed  wrong ;  and  that  for  his 
own  credit,  the  Most  High  may  not  have  given 
me  over  to  be  deceived  by  the  infernal  powers 
to  my  own  undoing.  That  is  a  harsh  statement 
thee  has  made,  William  Price,  concerning  the 
Most  High,  and  one  I  cannot  allow  to  go  un 
challenged  ;  but,  for  the  sake  of  peace  and  har 
mony,  if  thee  would  retract  that  statement,  we 
might  go  on  with  the  conversation." 
163 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

"  The'-e  is  no  use  of  going  on  with  the  conversa 
tion,"  William  Price  continued  in  the  same  tone 
and  with  the  same  severity.  "  I  toll  thee  plainly 
I  consider  thee  on  the  way  to  become  a  sorcerer, 
a  worker  of  iniquity.  I  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  thee  or  with  thy  house  or  thy  people." 

"  Then  my  mission  is  indeed  in  vain,"  Enoch 
Willoughby  calmly  replied ;  "  except  that  I 
should  now  know  how  unbending  thy  attitude 
is ;  for  otherwise  if  Lyddie  had  become  a  mem 
ber  of  thy  family,  it  might  have  been  to  her 
great  sorrow."  He  paused  as  though  about  to 
cease  from  further  efforts,  and  then :  "  I  cannot 
refrain  from  telling  thee,  however,  William,  be 
fore  we  part,  I  consider  thy  attitude  is  little 
better  than  that  of  the  early  Puritans,  who  per 
secuted  our  ancestors,  thine  and  mine,  William, 
those  Quakers  of  Salem,  and  brought  them  to 
torment  and  painful  death  for  those  very  pe 
culiarities  which  thee  has  been  pleased  to  find 
fault  with  in  me.  The  spirit  of  our  fathers  is 
being  driven  from  its  resting-place  in  our  body, 
and  it  is  not  surprising  if  it  seek  to  rest  else 
where." 

The  speech  was  not  harsh  because  it  was  im 
personal  and  it  was  hardly  fair  to  have  answered 
it  as  William  Price  did. 

"  Yes,  even  in  the  swine,"  he  retorted,  "  that 
rush  down  the  hillside  into  the  sea  and  are 
drowned !  " 

164 


ENOCH  TALKS   WITH  WILLIAM  PKICE 

If  these  severe  speeches  had  touched  Enoch 
Willoughby  at  all,  he  did  not  show  it,  except 
perhaps  by  becoming  calmer,  more  reasonable 
and  possibly  a  little  more  intense. 

"  I  do  not  consider  the  simile  well  chosen  for 
the  occasion,"  he  rejoined,  "  for  by  their  fruits 
ye  shall  know  them  ;  and,  from  my  youth  up, 
I  have  lived  among  the  Friends  and  am  one  of 
them,  and  am  willing  to  rest  my  case  upon  their 
knowledge  of  me.  But  if  thee  will  only  leave 
me  entirely  out  of  the  question — for  what  I  am 
and  what  I  may  be  about  to  become  is  not  alto 
gether  yet  clear  in  my  own  mind —  the  young 
woman  of  whom  we  speak  is  not  bound  to  fol 
low  me,  and  judging  from  what  I  know  of  her 
character  and  that  of  her  family,  I  think  she 
would  soon  become  whatever  her  husband  is. 
And  now  I  feel  that  my  mission  is  ended ;  and, 
though  thee  has  spoken  harsh  things  of  me, 
I  trust  I  have  not  made  thy  son's  case  worse. 
As  for  the  other  matter  I  have  no  fear,  and  I 
shall  henceforth  leave  it  entirely  to  be  settled  by 
thee  and  thine." 

Then  he  turned  and,  taking  little  James  by 
the  hand,  went  slowly  out  of  the  room. 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  been  told 
in  this  blunt,  harsh  fashion,  that  he  was  an  in 
strument  in  the  hands  of  the  devil,  a  sorcerer,  a 
wizard. 

"  Truly  we  are  not  far  removed  from  the  days 
165 


of  old,"  lie  said  to  himself,  and  a  shudder  came 
over  him.  as  he  thought  of  the  possibilities  that 
might  arise  from  the  situation.  It  is  true  that 
people  could  not  openly  be  burned  in  these  days, 
but  all  manner  of  smaller  and  perhaps  worse  per 
secutions  were  possible.  Then  his  thoughts  en 
tirely  changed  as  in  a  flash,  and  a  great  yearning 
came  over  him  for  the  people  of  his  old  church, 
of  the  meeting  at  Hesper,  of  the  old  Chester 
meeting-house  in  Ohio,  and  of  his  own  family. 
"  They  are  turning  their  backs  upon  the  very 
gift  that  came  to  them  from  heaven,"  he  thought, 
"  and  first  made  them  what  they  are ;  where  is 
that  bruised  reed  broken  by  the  wind,  that  quak 
ing  and  trembling  body  which  they  used  to  have 
when  the  spirit  came  upon  them  of  old,  and  for 
which  they  have  their  name  of  Quaker  in  de 
rision.  It  is  gone,  all  gone,  and  only  in  a  few 
good  and  great  women,  or  in  an  occasional  soli 
tary  and  despised  member  of  our  body  are  signs 
of  its  existence  still  to  be  observed." 

As  he  thought  these  thoughts,  he  was  walk 
ing  along  in  silence,  holding  his  son's  hand. 
The  boy  intuitively  felt  the  intense  thought,  the 
strain,  the  anxiety,  the  shame,  the  jar  to  the  af 
fections,  for  children  are  like  the  upper  chords 
of  an  instrument  that  catch  the  waves  of  har 
mony  or  discord  that  sweep  over  the  baser 
strings  about  them,  and  store  them  up  ;  and 
when  they  have  become  men  and  women,  work 

166 


ENOCH  TALKS  WITH  WILLIAM  PKICE 

out  of  this  harmony  or  discord  the  strong  notes 
of  their  own  natures.  At  this  moment  the  boy 
hated  everything,  but  especially  God  and  the 
spirits.  He  hated  God  because  he  thought  He 
had  taken  William  Price's  part  and  was  helping 
him,  and  he  hated  the  spirits  because  he  thought 
in  some  way  they  had  gotten  his  father  into 
trouble.  Why  didn't  they  get  him  out,  if  they 
were,  worth  anything?  Why,  after  they  beat 
him  in  the  corn-crib  and  made  him  give  up  and 
obey  them,  didn't  they  take  his  part  instead  of 
getting  him  into  more  trouble  ? 

Such  thoughts  as  these  were  passing  through 
the  mind  of  the  boy,  while  the  father,  perhaps, 
hardly  supposed  the  subject  of  this  conversation 
would  be  intelligible  to  him.  If  he  had  thought 
of  it,  he  would  not  have  taken  the  boy  along ; 
and  yet  he  was  not  so  small,  this  boy ;  he  was 
old  enough  to  board  away  from  home  in  the 
winter  and  go  to  school ;  he  was  old  enough  to 
take  his  father's  part  vigorously  before  a  whole 
roomful  of  people,  and  stand  up  and  tell  them 
they  "lied,"  when  he  thought  they  were  speak 
ing  falsely  of  his  parents.  The  fact  of  it  is  the 
father  had  not  noticed  that  all  these  years  he 
had  studied  spiritualism  and  argued  with  the 
Quakers  and  taken  their  preachers  around  on 
their  itineraries,  this  boy  had  grown  from  baby 
hood  into  childhood  and  then  boyhood  and  that 
his  reason  was  beginning  to  develop. 
167 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

It  came  to  him  then  like  a  voice  out  of  the  blue 
sky,  when  James  said,  suddenly : 

"Why  don't  thee  quit  the  whole  thing,  father, 
and  be  like  George  Header;  he  never  talks 
about  spirits  or  God  or  Heaven,  but  just  about 
the  store,  and  who  can  pay  his  debts  and  who 
can't ;  and  about  the  price  of  cattle  and  hogs ; 
and  how  much  of  everything  a  dollar  will  buy. 
That's  the  kind  of  man  I  intend  to  be  when  I 
grow  up,  and  I  won't  have  anythimj  to  do  with 
anything." 

Slowly  and  heavily  Enoch's  thoughts  came 
back  to  the  boy  and  what  he  had  said. 

"That  is  very  well,  James;  everything  hath 
its  time  and  its  season.  We  will  talk  that  all 
over  when  thee  comes  home  again.  Now  thee'd 
better  go  on  to  school;  I'll  be  up  for  thee 
Friday." 

They  shook  hands  and  separated,  and  the 
father  said  to  himself,  "  What  has  the  boy  been 
thinking  about,  I  wonder  ?  " 

Inside,  at  William  Price's,  William  Olney  said 
to  his  father,  "  Thee  has  rejected  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby's  advances  toward  a  reconciliation,  and 
made  everything  worse ;  thee  will  live  to  repent 
this  day,  father." 

But  William  Price  could  not  be  led  into  an 
other  conversation  with  his  son  on  the  painful 
subject.  He  said  nothing  in  answer  to  any  re- 
103 


ENOCH   TALKS   WITH   WILLIAM   PRICE 

marks  that  were  made  to  him.  Even  to  his 
daughter  Sally,  who  remarked  that  the  man's 
bearing  had  been  good  and  modest,  he  replied 
not  a  word,  but  soon  went  away  to  his  day's 
business. 


169 


XV 

LYDDEE  DECEIVES   HERSELF 

THERE  was  something  inexpressibly  sad  about 
it  when  Lyddie  O'Mara  presently  became  en 
gaged  to  Aaron  Melwin.  She  could  not  have 
loved  him.  She  had  shown  clearly  enough  that 
her  affections  were  with  William  Olney  Price ; 
but,  since  that  day  when  she  had  made  up  her 
mind  what  was  right  to  do,  she  had  never  seen 
William  Olney. 

Why  then  had  she  consented  to  marry  another 
man?  If  any  one  can  answer  the  question,  he 
knows  more  about  it  than  I  do.  She  undoubt 
edly  knew  what  she  was  doing,  for  the  poor  girl 
suffered  over  it  for  weeks  and  wept  as  if  she  had 
lost  her  last  friend  on  earth. 

She  made  no  concealment  to  young  Melwin 
that  her  affections  were  not  with  him. 

"I  like  thee,  Aaron  Melwiu,"  she  answered 
to  his  importunity :  "  I  cannot  deny  that,  but 
that  is  all.  I  fear  I  -care  for  thee  as  for  a  child 
that  needs  watching."  She  told  him  she  was 
afraid  he  was  not  going  to  make  the  best  out 
of  himself,  and  that  was  what  gave  her  concern 
about  him. 

170 


LYDDIE   DECEIVES  HERSELF 

And  this  very  concern  it  was  that  so  pleased 
young  Mel  win.  He  felt  that  he  had  some  one 
to  look  out  for  him,  and  be  interested  in  him. 
He  was  not  a  deep  nature,  and  perhaps  received 
from  Lyddie  as  much  affection  as  he  was  capa 
ble  of  appreciating ;  at  any  rate  he  was  willing  to 
take  what  he  could  get,  and  put  up  such  a  constant 
plea  that  the  girl  thought  she  might  be  going  to 
make  him  miserable  too.  It  looked  a  little  as 
though  she  were  only  brought  into  the  world  for 
the  unhappiness  of  all  about  her.  She  reasoned 
that  it  would  profit  nothing  to  refuse  him,  and 
could  not  make  it  worse  for  William  Olney  or 
himself  to  accept  him ;  on  the  contrary,  that  it 
would  be  the  best  and  quickest  way  of  healing 
the  whole  difficulty,  and  repairing  the  damage 
she  had  already  done.  There  is  no  doubt  the 
girl  took  some  consolation  in  the  thought  of  her 
martyrdom,  for  it  was  a  case  of  pure  self-sacri 
fice  ;  on  the  other  hand,  she  knew  she  was  pre 
paring  for  herself  a  wretched  life. 

Perhaps  after  all  she  would  not  have  been  led 
to  engage  herself  to  the  young  man  if  it  had  not 
been  that  at  this  time  the  Willoughbys  were 
about  to  leave  the  country.  In  theory  Enoch 
Willoughby  retained  no  malice  or  ill-f  eeling ;  and 
if  any  arose  within  him  checked  it  and  put  it 
down  by  main  force.  But  perhaps  such  feelings 
are  capable  of  existing  notwithstanding,  and  of 
influencing  the  actions.  At  any  rate,  not  long 
171 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

after  that  visit  to  William  Price,  he  sold  the 
place  and  paid  off  the  Price  mortgage. 

Hannah  told  him  she  knew  ho  did  it  because 
he  was  angry  at  William  Price,  but  he  vigorous 
ly  denied  it. 

"  Did  thee  ever  know  me  to  be  angry,  Han 
nah  ? "  he  asked  her. 

"No,"  she  acknowledged;  "I  never  knew  theo 
to  be  angry  as  other  people  are  in  the  good  old- 
fashioned  way,  more's  the  pity,  and  fly  up,  and 
give  people  a  piece  of  thy  honest  mind.  For 
my  part,  I  consider  that  the  better  way,  rather 
than  deceive  thyself  by  thinking  thee  had  no  ill- 
feeling,  and  go  on  acting  under  its  influence." 

There  were  a  good  many  things  in  Enoch's 
theories  that  Hannah  had  come  to  have  "no  pa 
tience  with,"  and  was  finding  it  hard  to  reconcile 
with  his  actions. 

Then  Enoch  said  it  was  the  asthma  and  the 
cold  winters,  and  Hannah  said  that  was  all  a 
pretence ;  they  had  asthma  as  well  in  the  South ; 
the  variations  in  temperature  were  just  as  great, 
and  it  was  only  the  variations  that  counted  for 
anything.  Again  Enoch  declared  the  interest  on 
the  boiTOwed  money  was  one  motive ;  it  was  a 
constant  expense  and  did  not  vary  as  the  income 
from  the  land  did.  Enoch  had  all  along  made 
up  his  mind  to  go  to  the  Reserve  at  Tonganoxie, 
though  Hannah  had  said  there  were  Quakers 
there,  and  it  would  be  no  better.  Enoch  had 
172 


LYDDIE  DECEIVES   HEKSELF 

insisted  he  was  not  going  away  from  the  Quakers, 
and  Hannah  had  said  nothing ;  but  she  had  kept 
her  own  opinion  about  it. 

The  time  for  their  moving  had  been  actually 
fixed  upon ;  but  Mose  and  Eck,  Lyddie's  young 
brothers,  were  not  going ;  and  Lyddie  did  not 
want  to  leave  them.  She  did  not  want  to  leave 
the  country  and  the  neighborhood ;  perhaps  this 
had  had  something  to  do  with  her  engaging  her 
self  to  young  Aaron  Mel  win. 

In  this  separation  from  the  church,  it  would 
be  false  to  the  truth  and  to  art,  not  to  show  an 
other  side  of  the  picture,  to  mention  the  Quakers 
who  sympathized  with  the  Enoch  Willoughbys; 
for  there  were  those  who  did,  and  for  whom  they 
had  the  warmest  feeling.  The  Prices  were  some 
what  unusual  people  in  the  meeting,  their  posi 
tion  a  little  higher  because  of  their  wealth  and 
their  direct  connection  with  the  Providence 
Friends  ;  and,  of  course,  there  were  no  such  ties 
to  be  broken  between  them  and  the  Willoughbys 
as,  for  instance,  between  the  Swains  and  them. 
We  have  had  occasion  to  mention  Shubal  Swain. 
He  was  only  one  of  a  dozen  Friends  who  were 
bound  by  the  warmest  ties  to  the  Willoughbys 
from  their  association  together  in  a  new  settle 
ment  and  in  a  new  country.  The  Swains  were 
as  much  opposed  to  the  new  doctrine  as  the 
Prices,  no  doubt,  and  as  most,  if  not  all,  of  the 
Friends  were ;  but  they  had  not  the  same  repug- 
173 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

nance  to  it.  The  Enoch  Willoughbys  said  they 
were  more  spiritual  than  most  of  the  meeting. 

In  fact  the  Willoughbys  now  began  to  classify 
everybody  in  this  way,  into  the  spiritual  and  the 
material  or  worldly ;  and  they  noticed  that  the 
classification  did  not  run  according  to  wealth. 
William  Price  was  worldly,  there  was  no  doubt 
about  it ;  and  he  had  wealth.  But  Elias  Koontz 
was  equally  well  off,  and  they  had  great  sym 
pathy  with  him  and  his  family.  Shubal  Swain 
was  about  as  important  in  the  Hesper  meeting 
as  William  Price,  but  in  an  altogether  different 
way.  He  was  on  the  spiritual  side  of  the  meet 
ing  ;  not  a  preacher,  but  it  seemed  that  when  he 
spoke  in  ordinary  conversation,  there  was  some 
thing  of  the  spirit  in  his  voice  and  in  his  words ; 
the  touch  of  his  hand  was  more  like  that  of  the 
Willoughbys  themselves.  There  was  a  genuine 
friendly  feeling  between  the  two  families. 

Shubal  Swain  was  so  silent  a  man  one  might 
almost  say  he  never  said  anything,  though  of 
course  that  would  be  an  exaggeration.  He  said 
very  little,  and  Mary  Swain  never  said  anything 
but  what  was  good  of  people,  and  Lou  and  Cal 
and  Willie  all  had  gentle  voices  and  kindly  nat 
ures  that  made  them  universally  well  liked. 
"  They  are  not  afraid  to  be  friendly  with  us, 
either,"  Hannah  said,  and  that  now  became  a 
very  common  expression  with  Hannah  and 
Enoch.  People  were  afraid  of  being  unpopular 
174 


LYDDIE   DECEIVES   HERSELF 

if  they  had  anything  to  do  with  Spiritualists. 
They  would  not  want  "  to  be  seen  with  one  of 
them,"  they  said.  This  feeling  was  strong  in 
the  whole  neighborhood,  but  it  could  not  affect 
the  Swains.  They  were  as  friendly  now  as  ever, 
and  Lou's  jolly  laugh  rang  out  in  the  Wil- 
loughby  house  now  just  the  same  among  these 
"Willoughby  Spiritualists  as  it  used  to  do  among 
the  Willoughby  Quakers  there. 

"  Lou  Swain,"  Hannah  said  to  her  one  day 
when  she  had  come  over  to  see  them,  "you  peo 
ple  are  about  the  only  ones  who  haven't  changed 
at  all  in  your  manner  toward  us  since  we  be 
came  Spiritualists,  while  others  act  as  though 
they  were  afraid  of  their  lives  here.  Does  thee 
know  sometimes  when  they  go  by  and  look 
around  as  though  they  thought  they  would  see 
a  ghost  sitting  upright  on  the  ridge-pole  of  the 
house,  I  feel  as  if  I  should  like  to  go  out  and 
frighten  them."  Even  in  ghostly  matters  there 
was  a  spirit  of  fun  and  mischief  about  Hannah. 
She  could  get  some  pleasantness  even  out  of  a 
reputation  for  witchcraft. 

Then  she  asked  Lou  Swain  how  it  was  they 
did  not  feel  afraid  of  them. 

"I  don't  see  any  difference  in  thee,"  Lou  an 
swered.  She  was  on  terms  of  great  familiarity 
with  Hannah.  "  Thee  is  just  the  same  tall,  lean 
Hannah  Willoughby  now  that  thee  always  was, 
and  thy  chicken  gravy  tastes  just  the  same  now 
175 


that  it  always  did  when  I  come  to  see  thee." 
She  laughed  again,  a  laugh  impossible  to  de 
scribe.  "  Lou  Swain  has  such  a  good  laugh," 
Hannah  used  to  say. 

The  same  good  feeling  existed  for  all  the  other 
members  of  the  family.  Enoch  tried  to  convert 
Shubal  Swain  to  spiritualism,  and  Shubal  lis 
tened  with  infinite  patience.  I  think  he  took  it 
as  a  sort  of  lesson  in  the  Scriptures  ;  Enoch's 
long  and  frequent  quotations  from  the  Bible 
seemed  to  please  him. 

He  said  nothing,  or  but  little ;  but  what  he 
did  say  was  golden.  "  Yes,  examine  all  thee 
pleases,"  he  said,  or  such  oracular  maxims  as 
these,  all  given  as  answers  to  questions  or 
thrown  in  between  arguments : 

"  No,  it  is  foolish  to  be  afraid  of  the  truth." 

"Whether  popular  or  unpopular  is  not  a 
question  of  importance." 

"Yes,  charity  for  all  belief  sand  all  persons  is 
the  only  right  attitude." 

"  So  thee  likes  the  spirit  of  the  Saviour's 
teachings;  I  don't  see  anything  else  necessary." 
'  And  so  on.  But  he  did  advise  Enoch  not  to 
go  too  much  among  the  Spiritualists,  and  in 
that,  too,  Enoch  Willoughby  felt  there  would 
have  been  some  lack  of  perfect  honesty.  "  One 
ought  to  live  and  act  honestly,  according  to  his 
belief,"  he  said,  and  that  he  attempted  to  do  in 
every  way  possible. 

176 


XVI 

THE  NEW  SECT 

THIS  friendship  for  the  Swains  and  for  others 
of  the  meeting  had  its  pathetic  side,  for  it  would 
have  to  be  broken  off  too.  There  had  been  nu 
merous  Spiritualists  coming  into  the  country  of 
late,  most  of  them,  it  is  true,  of  no  very  high 
respectability,  and  Hannah  at  first  condemned 
them  all  and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
them.  But  Enoch  remained  consistent  with 
himself  and  his  inexorable  logic  ;  he  would  not 
condemn  one  for  all,  nor  all  for  one.  They  oc 
casionally  had  those  evening  meetings  still,  and 
of  course  every  one  in  the  neighborhood  knew 
the  Enoch  Willoughbys  were  Spiritualists. 

One  evening  a  man  and  two  women  drove  up 
in  a  light  wagon,  stopped  before  the  house,  and 
went  in.  The  two  women  were  sisters;  the 
man  was  the  husband  of  one  of  the  women  ;  all 
three  were  strangers  to  the  Willoughbys.  They 
stated  their  business ;  they  were  Spiritualists 
themselves  they  said,  and  had  heard  that  the 
Willoughbys  were  also,  and  they  thought  per 
haps  they  would  be  holding  a  meeting.  They 
were  rather  odd-looking  people,  with  a  "  down 
177 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

East"  accent.  One  of  the  women  was  called 
P'lene,  possibly  a  shortening  of  Pauline,  and 
the  other,  Susan.  The  woman  P'lene,  the  elder, 
had  a  rather  firm  look  about  the  mouth,  an  ex 
pression  of  the  eye  that  was  not  bad,  but  unu 
sual  in  some  way,  and  a  rather  metallic  tone  of 
voice.  The  woman  Susan  was  at  first  sight,  to 
say  the  least,  not  handsome  ;  but  when  you 
looked  at  her  more  closely,  her  somewhat  too- 
high  forehead  was,  after  all,  shapely ;  her  eyes 
were  mild,  in  fact,  almost  too  mild,  and  her  voice 
was  unusually  soft  and  sweet,  even  for  a  wom 
an's.  She  seemed  timid  among  strangers,  and 
said  very  little.  The  man  was  simply  coarse- 
looking,  and  that  was  about  the  best  that  could 
be  said  of  him. 

Hannah  made  no  reply  to  this  suggestion  as 
to  the  spiritual  meeting,  or  merely  said  she  did 
not  know  about  it,  and  asked  them  to  be  seated. 
Then  a  few  commonplaces  were  passed  as  to 
where  the  women  lived,  and  so  on,  and  Enoch 
Willoughby  came  in.  The  same  sort  of  general 
introduction  was  entered  upon  ;  Enoch  took  up 
with  the  suggestion  of  a  meeting  and  asked  if 
any  of  them  were  speakers.  They  wore  plainly 
not  accustomed  to  his  style  of  address,  for  they 
spoke  of  "  circles  "  and  "  seances,"  of  "  mediums  " 
and  "  mediumship."  It  turned  out  that  all  three 
were  mediums  of  the  speaking  phase,  but  Su 
san,  the  younger  of  the  sisters,  was  the  most 
178 


THE   NEW   SECT 

gifted,  the  spirit  generally  coining  upon  her 
with  very  great  power  and  often  giving  re 
markable  tests  of  spirit  life  through  her  medium- 
ship.  All  this  was  related  by  P'lene,  with  oc 
casional  notes  and  comments  by  her  husband, 
while  Susan  remained  silent  and  timid.  Enoch 
explained  that  he  was  a  very  imperfect  speaksr 
himself,  the  spirit  having  indeed  a  powerful 
hold  upon  him,  but  lacking  the  right  kind  of 
guidance  in  some  way,  so  that  he  was  made  to 
go  through  quite  singular  actions  not  at  all 
pleasant  to  look  at ;  thus  he  had  been  obliged 
with  great  reluctance  to  resist  the  inclination 
to  speak  in  the  Quaker  meeting,  and  generally 
found  it  best  to  refrain  from  yielding  to  the  in 
fluence  at  all. 

Then  the  elder  of  the  two  women  began  to 
explain  to  him  that  what  he  needed  was  "de 
velopment." 

"  You  should  sit  in  circles  frequently,"  she 
said  ;  "  in  fact,  as  often  as  possible ;  the  influ 
ence  would  then  come  upon  you  more  and  more 
easily,  until  finally  you  would  be  influenced 
almost  imperceptibly.  The  best  speakers  pass 
under  influence  without  mortal  eye  being  able 
to  detect  the  change,  and  such  a  condition  can 
easily  be  acquired.  The  '  conditions '  must  how 
ever  be  kept  favorable."  This  was  the  first  use 
of  that  word  conditions  which  came  later  to  play 
a  great  part  in  the  life  of  the  family. 
179 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

In  a  word,  a  meeting  was  arranged  for,  Enoch 
entering  into  it  much  more  willingly  than  Han 
nah,  who  felt  the  lack  of  respectability  and 
standing  of  these  people,  and  was  inclined  to 
pay  a  good  deal  of  attention  to  such  things. 
This  very  consideration,  on  the  contrary,  made 
Enoch  Willoughby  the  more  eager  to  consent  to 
their  request  and  sit  with  them. 

"  We  must  not  feel  ourselves  above  anybody, 
Hannah,"  he  said.  This  was  another  theory  of 
his  with  which  Hannah  said  she  had  no  pa 
tience,  and  in  which  she  put  no  confidence. 

"Thee  feels  thyself  above  people  just  as 
much  as  any  one  does,  Enoch,"  she  replied,  "  only 
they  are  different  people  in  thy  case ;  and  then 
thee  has  a  way  of  treating  them  kindly  and  con 
descendingly  ;  but  they  are  not  deceived  by  it. 
People  all  hold  themselves  in  certain  places 
with  regard  to  other  people ;  they  cannot  help 
it,  any  more  than  any  other  law  of  nature;  and," 
she  continued,  "  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  these 
people,  and  don't  care  to  associate  with  them." 

But  she  could  not  avoid  this  first  meeting ;  it 
had  already  been  arranged  for  ;  and  after  it  was 
over,  Hannah's  opinion  had  changed.  She  did 
not  have  a  fancy  for  P'lene,  but  she  could  not 
help  liking  Susan.  All  three  of  the  visitors 
had  risen  and  spoken  under  the  "  influence," 
the  man  but  briefly,  and  unpleasantly  it  must 
be  confessed ;  P'lene,  too,  in  rather  few  words, 
180 


THE  NEW   SECT 

and  as  Enoch  said,  "  a  little  as  though  she  did 
it  herself."  But  Susan,  the  moment  she  rose 
to  her  feet,  had  seemed  an  entirely  different 
person. 

Her  eyes  had  seemed  to  catch  new  fire  ;  her 
voice  had  swollen  out  sweet,  clear,  vibrating  ; 
her  actions  and  gestures  were  simple  and  ap 
propriate  ;  her  words  had  no  philosophical 
depth,  it  is  true,  and  were  only  of  the  import  of 
these  of  most  mediums  :  but  there  was  an  un 
mistakable  something  about  her,  that  showed 
that  the  woman  was  not  herself.  The  moment 
she  began  to  speak,  Enoch  looked  up,  and  Han 
nah  too.  They  never  missed  a  word  or  act  of 
hers  while  she  remained  on  the  floor.  They 
almost  held  their  breath,  and  when  "  it "  left 
her  and  she  sat  down  they  both  sighed  involun 
tarily  from  that  feeling  that  you  have  when 
some  one  executes  a  beautiful  piece  of  music, 
and  a  pleasure  akin  to  pain  seizes  upon  you  ;  a 
something, — perhaps  an  undefined  longing  that 
you  yourself  might  have  been  the  performer. 

If  Enoch  Willoughby  could  have  spoken  like 
that  in  the  Quaker  meeting,  how  different  his 
life  might  have  been !  There  were  almost  tears 
in  his  eyes  when  she  finished.  "  She  is  a  good 
woman,"  he  thought :  "  she  must  be  a  good 
woman." 

He  fought  off  the  influence  from  himself  ;  he 
could  not  bear  to  let  the  spirit  come  upon  him. 
181 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

He  felt  it  beginning  in  his  right  shoulder,  and 
his  hands  were  getting  a  little  cold,  but  he 
resolutely  held  his  shoulders  still  and  rubbed 
his  hands  back  into  their  normal  feeling  ;  and 
pretty  soon  got  up  and  brought  the  meeting  to 
an  end  by  beginning  a  conversation  on  some 
commonplace  matter,  so  that  not  long  after  the 
new-comers  went  away. 

That  was  the  first  real  spiritual  meeting  the 
Willoughbys  ever  had  with  strangers,  but  it  was 
not  the  last ;  it  only  furnished  the  beginning  to 
a  long  series  of  such  meetings.  Both  Enoch 
and  Hannah  hoped  that  those  people  would 
come  again. 

Hannah  was  captivated  by  Susan's  voice.  "  I 
cannot  tell  thee  how  it  went  through  me,"  she 
said  to  Enoch.  "  She  is  a  woman  of  great 
spiritual  gift,  it  must  be." 

And  so  Enoch  thought  too.  He  began  also 
to  think  the  woman  might  be  the  means  of  aid 
ing  him  in  his  own  development.  It  may  be  he- 
even  yet  had  visions  of  going  back  to  the 
Quaker  meeting,  and  rising  without  any  twitch 
ing  and  nervous  actions,  any  peculiarity  of 
manner,  and  yet  under  the  "  power  "  and  speak 
ing  to  his  old  meeting  in  such  a  way  as  to  show 
them  that  his  "  influence  "  was  good. 

Hannah  as  usual  had  her  own  opinion. 

"  Thee  is  the  most  envious  mortal  that  ever 
lived,"  she  averred,  "and  the  most  ambitious; 
182 


THE  NEW   SECT 

and  yet  keeps  it  all  down,  and  conceals  it,  and 
deceives  thyself,  so  that  thee  never  knows  what 
thy  own  motives  really  are." 

And  his  answer  was  something  like :  "  Fie, 
fie,  Hannah;  what  does  thee  mean  by  saying 
such  a  thing?" 

"  I  mean,"  Hannah  would  explain  tempestu 
ously,  "  thee'd  give  thy  right  arm  to  be  able  to 
speak  like  this  woman  in  meeting,  and  I  con 
sider  that  just  as  much  vanity  as  all  the  other 
little  vanities  thee's  constantly  talking  about. 
But  thee  need  not  think  of  ever  going  back  to 
the  old  meeting,  Enoch.  If  thee  goes  in  with 
those  people,  and  learns  to  speak  with  the 
tongues  of  angels,  and  with  the  unction  of 
Stephen  himself  the  Quakers  will  never  listen 
to  thee.  It  isn't  worth  while  for  thee  to  go  to 
that  school  to  learn,  if  thee  cares  for  thy  old 
congregation." 

But  Enoch  did  go  to  that  school,  and  later 
on,  Hannah,  too. 

The  next  time  those  people  came,  Enoch  al 
lowed  himself  to  be  influenced,  and  he  thought 
the  influence  was  better.  It  was  a  little  easier, 
and  certainly  he  spoke  more  fluently  and  with 
less  of  that  unpleasant  manner.  And  Han 
nah's  liking  for  Susan  grew;  she  did  not  so 
greatly  dislike  P'lene  either;  and  the  man 
himself  became  after  awhile  at  least  a  little 
more  tolerable  to  all  of  them.  But  he  finally 
183 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

separated  from  his  wife,  and  left  the  neighbor 
hood. 

Before  very  long,  a  few  other  families  came 
in,  and  a  kind  of  spiritual  settlement  was 
formed;  spiritual  meetings  every  Sunday  be 
came  common ;  they  were  held  now  at  Susan's, 
now  at  P'lene's,  and  at  last  at  the  Willoughbys'. 

Hannah  found  that  she  was  easily  influenced, 
much  more  easily  than  Enoch — although  Enoch 
always  said  she  did  it  herself ;  and  Hannah  al 
ways  said  he  was  only  envious  of  her — and  she 
got  to  liking  the  meetings;  until,  finally,  al 
most  before  they  knew  it,  they  had  all  gone,  one 
might  almost  say  rashly  and  rapidly,  over  to 
modern  spiritualism ;  all  except  Lyddie. 

She  had  either  taken  a  dislike  to  it  or  had 
been  afraid  of  it ;  for,  from  whatever  other  rea 
son  it  might  have  been,  she  had  no  more  signs 
of  the  influence ;  and,  though  she  met  these  new 
Spiritualists,  she  would  not  be  present  at  the 
meetings  or  have  anything  to  do  with  their 
spiritualism. 

Nor  can  we  allow  that  Enoch  Willoughby  was 
entirely  earned  away  with  them,  either.  For  a 
time  he  undoubtedly  was  captured  by  the  charm 
of  Susan's  voice,  by  the  fact  of  her  mysterious 
double  nature,  the  presence  of  the  unknown 
and  possibly  unknowable  in  her,  and  in  others 
of  the  new  sect.  But  after  awhile  the  hard, 
practical,  Willoughby  common-sense  returned ; 
184 


THE   NEW   SECT 

Enoch  began  to  notice  carefully  what  was  said, 
and  he  found  it  largely  unsatisfactory.  He 
considered  carefully  the  tests  they  gave,  and  he 
found  they  always  had  some  loophole  of  escape. 
The  women  were  not  frauds — he  was  convinced 
of  that — but,  under  the  "  influence,"  they  would 
undoubtedly  tell  most  extravagant  falsehoods, 
directly  in  connection  with  their  very  best  tests 
and  proofs ;  all  except  this  woman,  Susan.  She 
said  very  little  that  was  in  the  nature  of  tests ; 
but  what  little  she  did  say  seemed  to  be  almost 
incontrovertible.  Her  "  influence  "  was  an  in 
telligence  apart  from  her  own  knowledge,  and, 
almost  without  exception,  told  the  truth.  Hers 
was  not  a  lying  spirit ;  but,  good  as  it  was,  sim 
ple  and  true  as  it  seemed,  a  mind  like  Enoch 
"Willoughby's  could  not  be  content  to  listen  to  a 
woman,  if  she  had  the  charm  of  spiritual  mys 
tery  upon  her  never  so  strongly,  or  repeated 
over  and  over  the  words,  "  I  come  from  the 
spirit  land  to  show  you  there  is  a  life  after 
death,"  indefinitely ;  and  that  is  practically 
what  she  did,  though  with  a  thousand  varia 
tions,  it  is  true  ;  in  a  deep,  rich,  thrilling  voice  : 
sometimes  in  rhyme ;  oftener  in  pleasant  ca 
dences  and  good  inflections ;  with  a  wide  range 
of  melody  and  harmony  of  sound.  But,  after  all, 
it  was  like  a  love-song  in  the  opera ;  you  began 
to  want  to  hear  into  the  words ;  you  wanted 
more  depth  of  meaning,  and  less  musical  effect. 
185 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

There  might  be  condensed  into  the  mouth  of 
this  one  Susan  and  into  the  effect  of  her  preach 
ing  the  result  of  the  whole  spiritual  investiga 
tion  of  Enoch  Willoughby's  life.  It  never  sat 
isfied  him ;  but  he  became,  and  lived  and  died, 
a  Spiritualist.  He  had  taken  the  name  when  he 
was  a  Quaker,  under  the  force  of  his  own  men 
tal  or  spiritual  growth,  and  under  most  painful 
mental  stress,  and  he  purposed  abiding  by  it. 
He  gradually  came  to  lose  a  little  of  the  rever 
ential  feeling  he  had  had  for  the  subject ;  it  be 
came  a  little  like  a  toy,  an  old  plauchette  board, 
with  which  he  once  spent  a  few  idle  moments, 
and  yet  looked  upon  with  a  little  mystery,  as 
though  he  still  had  the  feeling  that  something 
might  come  out  of  it  after  all ;  as  though,  he 
thought,  with  a  smile  half  pathetic,  "it  came 
very  nearly  amounting  to  something  anyway." 
He  did  not  mind  it  so  much  now  if  the  spirit 
did  ridiculous  things.  He  could  laugh  at  some 
of  P'lene's  grotesque  attitudes,  when  under  the 
influence ;  and,  when  he  heard  wonderful  tests 
spoken  of,  he  would  generally  add  humorously, 
"  Yes,  but  that  was  in  Indiana,  while  we  are  in 
Iowa;  that  was  a  long  way  off"  ;  meaning  that 
most  likely  there  was  no  truth  in  it.  Yet  he  had 
the  same  belief  in  his  dreams  and  visions  that  he 
had  formerly  had.  He  would  have  been  as  much 
impressed  by  Loisa  Painter's  influence  now  as 
ever.  He  studied  the  Bible  more,  if  possible, 
186 


THE   NEW   SECT 

than  before.  He  went  to  the  spiritual  meetings, 
unsatisfactory  as  they  almost  always  were,  be 
cause  he  thought  he  could  not  do  any  better. 
He  did  not  succeed  with  his  "  influence  "  there 
much  better  than  he  had  done  in  the  Quaker 
meetings.  His  gestures  were  unpleasant,  his 
attitudes  grotesque,  and  his  imitations  and 
tests,  most  generally,  ridiculous.  But  he  had 
cast  in  his  lot  with  the  Spiritualists,  and  he 
would  not  leave  them.  The  fact  that  people 
said  harsh  things  about  them,  called  them  all 
frauds  and  deceivers  and  low  people,  aroused  his 
sense  of  justice.  He  would  not  condemn  one 
for  all  or  all  for  a  few :  and  there  were,  he  felt, 
people  of  deep  spirituality  among  them ;  Chris 
tian  Dorotheas  even,  among  spiritual  mediums. 

"  Doesn't  new  wine  have  to  be  put  into  new 
wine-skins,  lest  if  new  wine  be  put  into  old 
wine-skins,  they  will  burst  and  the  wine  be 
spilled,"  he  used  to  quote  in  this  connection. 

But  he  gradually  lost  something  of  his  great 
expectations.  After  a  few  months,  may  be 
years,  of  association  with  mediums  and  preach 
ers  and  even  spiritually  minded  Quakers,  he  no 
longer  expected  so  much  to  see  suddenly  a  halo 
of  mystical  light  appear  about  the  head  of  Susan 
when  she  was  speaking ;  or  a  mysterious  hand 
materialize  in  front  of  P'lene's  face  ;  or  that  he 
could  by  spirit  impression  tell  accurately  the 
name  of  some  stranger's  uncle,  or  aunt,  or 
187 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

grandmother,  and  exactly  on  what  day  he  or 
she  died,  and  what  dress  was  worn  on  that  oc 
casion.  But  he  and  Hannah  came  to  like  these 
people  and  others  of  the  sect,  even  if  they  could 
not  give  mathematical  demonstration  of  the  ex 
istence  of  God,  and  of  the  soul  after  death. 
Susan  was  a  good  woman,  as  he  had  thought ; 
and  P'lene,  too,  though  a  little  harsh  in  her 
nature;  and  they  sometimes  had  very  good  and 
satisfactory  meetings  together  with  them  and 
with  others  of  the  neighborhood.  His  own 
actions,  when  speaking,  that  had  been  out  of 
place  in  some  way  in  the  Quaker  meeting,  were 
not  so  noticeable  here,  in  his  own  home,  or  at 
Susan's,  or  P'lene's,  with  a  group  of  the  neigh 
bors  around.  If  they  wrere  remarkably  bad,  the 
explanation  of  them  was  always  ready  at  hand ; 
it  was  simply  an  odd  spirit  that  had  taken 
possession  of  him.  They  laughed  at  its  capers, 
and  let  it  go  on  its  way  rejoicing.  And  the  in 
fluence  did  good  ;  that  Enoch  Willoughby  could 
not  have  been  made  to  deny.  It  brought  a 
soothing  effect,  it  harmonized  mental  trouble, 
freed  the  burdened  mind  oppressed  with  the 
weariness  of  life,  just  the  same  in  the  spiritual 
meeting  as  it  had  before  in  the  Quaker  meet 
ings.  Perhaps  it  would  have  done  just  as  well 
if  he  had  practised  elocution,  or  singing,  recited 
"  Clarence's  dream  ; "  or  "  Hamilton  yielded  to 
the  force  of  an  imperious  custom."  I  don't 
188 


THE  NEW   SECT 

know.  I  only  know  that  he  remained  a  Spirit 
ualist,  attended  the  meetings  with  Hannah,  and 
got  some  good  out  of  them,  though  just  what 
is  not  so  easy  to  tell. 

But  the  essential  attitude  of  the  spiritual 
mind  is  that  it  feels  always  there  is  more  in 
Heaven  and  Earth  than  may  be  dreamed  of  in 
our  philosophy.  It  does  not  know  what  time 
something  may  happen ;  it  is  a  mind  open,  and 
receptive  to  mysterious  influences;  and  unless 
we  greatly  mistake,  such  a  mind  can  be  per 
fectly  sane.  Enoch  Willoughby  could  tell  ex 
actly  where  two  men  should  put  a  spike  under  a 
log  so  that  a  third  man  at  the  end  should  share 
the  weight  equally  with  them ;  or  how  long  the 
short  end  of  a  whiffle-tree  should  be,  to  make 
two  horses  share  the  load  equally  with  a  third 
hitched  to  the  long  end  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  he 
would  have  been  surprised  at  all  to  see  "William 
Price  walk  into  his  house,  forcibly  led  by  the 
spirit,  and  put  William  Olney's  and  Lyddie's 
hands  together,  and  say  "What  God  has  joined 
together,  let  no  man  put  asunder." 


189 


XVII 

RELIGION  HELPING   LOVE 

THIS  going  to  the  spiritualist  meetings  grad 
ually  took  the  Willoughbys  away  from  the 
Quakers,  and  came  to  separate  them  from  even 
those  of  the  church  with  whom  they  had  ever 
remained  on  terms  of  friendship.  That  was  sad. 
They  could  not  bear  to  give  up  some  of  them. 
Hannah  said  "  she  would  not  have  Mary  Swain 
get  to  thinking  hard  of  them  for  anything  in  the 
world." 

"  There  is  no  danger,"  Enoch  said.  "  Shubal 
Swain  is  a  man  who  does  not  judge  of  people 
by  little  and  insignificant  things.  He  is  a  man 
of  great  charity  and  broad  mind ;  thee  need  not 
fear." 

But  one  day  he  saw  Hannah  crying,  actually 
crying,  as  in  the  days  when  they  lived  at  his 
father's,  old  Enoch  "Willoughby's,  in  Ohio,  years 
ago,  and  asked  her  what  was  the  matter. 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  say,"  she  said  at  first,  but 
then :  "  the  Swains  have  gone  by  to  the  Cadwal- 
laders,  and  that's  the  second  time  they've  gone 
there  since  we  have  been  to  see  them.  Both 
Mary  and  Lou  owe  me  a  visit.  I  can't  help 
190 


RELIGION   HELPING   LOVE 

feeling  bad  about  it ;  of  course,  they  may  have 
had  some  business  at  the  Cadwalladers'  that 
has  taken  them  there  this  time,  but  I  feel  as  if 
they  are  going  to  leave  us  too.  I  couldn't  bear 
it." 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Enoch  could  console 
her. 

"  Never  thee  fear,  Hannah,"  he  said.  "  Shubal 
Swain  talks  little,  but  he  thinks  a  great  deal, 
and  he  seldom  says  anything  but  what  is  just 
right ;  that  shows  that  his  thoughts  are  right ; 
and,  if  that  is  the  case,  he  will  not  misjudge  us ; 
but  thee  must  be  careful  thyself." 

Then  he  remembered  her  intimacy  with 
Susan  and  P'lene,  and  told  her  to  think  whether 
she  had  not  herself  gone  with  them  more  even 
than  two  times  in  succession ;  and  advised  her 
to  consider  what  Lou  and  Mary  might  have  the 
right  to  think  of  her,  and  to  be  charitable. 

Even  as  he  was  talking  to  her,  a  wagon  was 
heard  driving  along  up  the  road.  Hannah 
looked  out  of  the  window  and  saw  it;  it  was 
the  Swains  coming  back.  They  had  driven  in 
to  the  Cadwalladers,  on  an  errand  probably, 
and  had  then  come  back,  and  were  driving  up 
to  the  Willoughbys  on  a  visit. 

Hannah's    spirits    were    full    of    exuberant 

gayety  as  well  as  sudden  sinkings  and  fits  of 

despondency.     I  am  not  certain  that  what  she 

did  now  actually  was  to  her  credit,  but  she  was 

191 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

so  delighted  that  the  Swains  had  come  that  she 
must  do  something. 

After  she  had  met  them  and  greeted  them, 
she  had  to  go  out  to  bathe  her  eyes,  for  every 
one  saw  she  had  been  crying,  and  when  she 
came  back,  she  carried  in  her  hand  her  old 
Quaker  bonnet.  It  is  impossible  to  bring  back 
now  the  spirit  of  fun  and  jollity  that  she  suc 
ceeded  in  putting  into  the  conversation  that  en 
sued  about  this  Quaker  bonnet.  Such  mirth 
arises  from  the  moment,  only,  and  cannot  be  re 
produced.  They  knew  she  had  been  crying  and 
their  sympathies  had  been  won  over ;  when  she 
now  referred  to  her  feelings,  and  said  it  was  all 
about  this  Quaker  bonnet,  they  did  not  know 
what  she  meant. 

"  I  want  to  tell  thee,  Mary  Swain,"  she  said, 
"  this  Quaker  bonnet  for  some  time  has  been 
on  the  point  of  taking  a  long  journey." 

They  waited  for  her  to  continue  and  explain. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  sending  it  back  to 
my  sister  in  Ohio,"  she  said.  "  If  we  remained 
Quakers,  I  thought  I  should  keep  it,  as  I  might 
need  it.  If  we  became  spiritualists,  I  thought  I 
should  send  it  back,  as  I  could  no  longer  make 
use  of  it,  and  my  sister  might  use  it." 

But  here  Enoch,  rebuking  her  gently,  asked 
what  she  meant,  and  said  : 

"  Hannah,  I  would  not  make  light  of  a  serious 
question.  Does  thee  consider  that  the  question 
192 


RELIGION   HELPING  LOVE 

of  what  church  we  belong  to  is  of  no  more  im 
portance  than  the  disposition  of  thy  bonnet  ?  " 

"  If  it  is  important,  then  why  don't  thee  decide 
it,"  Hannah  replied  impetuously.  "The  more 
important  it  is,  the  more  necessary  for  an  early 
decision.  As  for  me,"  she  continued,  "  I've 
been  waiting  a  long  time  to  know  what  way 
thee  was  going  to  take,  whether  thee  would  be  a 
Quaker  or  a  spiritualist ;  and  I  am  unable  to 
decide  ;  thee's  as  much  on  the  fence  now  as 
ever." 

"Hannah  has  very  little  mind  of  her  own 
about  such  matters,"  Enoch  said,  turning  to 
Shubal. 

But  Hannah  would  not  allow  that  remark  to 
go  unanswered.  "  It  is  thee,"  she  said,  "  who 
has  no  mind  of  thy  own.  Thee  would  like  to  be 
a  Quaker  if  thee  could  make  the  Quakers  think 
exactly  as  thee  does,  and  be  a  spiritualist  if  thee 
could  only  prove  with  miracles  and  signs  and 
wonders  what  is  impossible  to  be  proven.  I 
don't  consider  that  the  whole  question  is  worth 
any  more  than  the  question  of  a  Quaker  bonnet; 
and,  as  for  me,  I  consider  that  I  have  more  mind 
and  will  of  my  own  exactly  because  I  do  not 
decide.  I  am  waiting  for  thee  to  decide,  and  it 
seems  to  me  it  is  pretty  nearly  time.  Will 
thee  wait  till  they  turn  thee  out  of  the  church, 
wait  till  we  lose  all  our  friends  in  both  direc 
tions,  while  thee  is  studying  something  thee 
193 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

can  never  find  out  as  long  as  thee  lives?  That 
is  what's  the  matter  with  me.  I  see  we  are 
going  to  lose  all  our  friends." 

Just  here  Lyddie  came  into  the  room,  spoke 
to  everybody,  and  then  went  on  out. 

"  How  poorly  thy  sister  is  looking,"  Mary 
Swain  remarked,  and  Haunah  replied. 

"  Yes,  it  is  distress  of  mind  that  is  the  mat 
ter  with  her,"  said  Hannah,  "  as  perhaps  thee 
knows,  and  that  is  a  much  more  important  thing 
than  the  final  disposition  of  a  Quaker  bonnet." 

Hannah  was  full  of  her  theme  of  the  bonnet. 

"  That's  it,"  she  went  on ;  "  if  the  church 
only  affected  the  religion  of  our  souls,  it  would 
not  make  so  much  difference  ;  but,  when  it  tells 
us  what  kind  of  clothing  we  shall  wear,  who 
shall  be  our  friends  and  who  not,  it  is  something 
more  serious." 

And  then  she  must  have  had  an  impulse  to 
confidence,  for  she  said  :  "  I  want  to  ask  thee, 
Shubal,  when  we  go  over  to  the  spiritualists  en 
tirely,  as  I  feel  we  are  about  to  do,  must  we  lose 
all  our  old  friends  among  the  Quakers.  Will 
you  people  leave  us  too  ?  Will  you  think  that 
we  are  '  workers  of  iniquity  ?  '  We  think  so 
much  of  you  — 

But  here  Enoch  interposed  with  :  "  Hannah, 
Hannah,"    attempting  to   cause    her    to   cease 
speaking,  for  flattery  to  the  face  was  as  unpleas 
ant  to  him  as  caressing  or  signs  of  affection. 
194 


RELIGION  HELPING  LOVE 

But  Hannah  was  in  this  as  in  other  things : 
when  she  had  anything  to  say,  she  proposed  to 
say  it. 

"  Enoch,  I  have  the  floor,"  she  began,  and 
Enoch  was  obliged  to  let  her  go  on.  "  You  are 
our  best  friends  in  this  meeting,"  she  con 
tinued,  turning  to  the  Swains ;  "  you  have 
never  shown  us  the  cold  shoulder,  and  I  have 
thought  a  great  deal  about  it ;  it  is  one  of  the 
main  reasons  why  I  hated  to  leave  the  meeting. 
If  I  thought  you  could  still  respect  us  and 
would  respect  us,  I  should  not  so  much  care ; 
and  I  want  to  know  what  thee  thinks  about  it." 
She  said  this  addressing  Shubal  directly. 
"  Never  mind  what  Enoch  says,"  she  con 
tinued  ;  "  thee  can  tell  me  what  thee  thinks ; 
will  it  be  the  last  of  our  friendship  ?  Must  we 
give  you  people  up  ?  " 

"  Hannah,"  Enoch  interposed,  "  nobody  can 
answer  such  questions." 

But  Shubal  had  been  appealed  to,  and  he  re 
plied.  "  What  may  take  place  in  time,  of  course, 
I  do  not  know.  People  grow  apart  by  gradual 
dissociation,  as  they  have  grown  together  by 
association ;  but,  I  think  I  may  assure  thee  of 
one  thing,  that  as  long  as  we  think  you  are  try 
ing  to  do  right,  no  matter  what  belief  you  may 
profess,  we  shall  never  cast  you  out  of  our 
hearts,  and  we  hope  you  will  think  the  same  of 
us." 

195 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

Then  all  were  silent.  Hannah  wiped  her 
eyes,  for,  in  spite  of  herself,  the  tears  had  been 
coming,  and  said  she  did  not  so  much  care  in 
that  case  what  became  of  the  bonnet. 

Just  then  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  door. 

It  is  easy  enough  in  general  to  make  sport  of 
a  man  in  love,  but  not  of  one  in  the  condition  in 
which  William  Olney  Price  now  walked  into  the 
room.  He  cast  a  gloom  over  the  whole  place. 
Every  one  felt  depressed  from  the  mere  sight  of 
him,  though,  of  course,  they  shook  hands  and 
spoke  with  him,  and  had  him  take  a  seat. 
They  knew  he  had  come  to  see  Lyddie  again, 
and  that  Lyddie  would  not  see  him.  He  did 
not  ask  for  her,  for  he  had  been  there  before 
and  had  not  been  able  to  see  her,  and  she  was 
said,  he  knew,  to  be  about  to  marry  young 
Aaron  Melwin.  But  a  condemned  man  has 
more  interest  in  looking  at  the  place  of  his 
execution  than  any  other  ;  and  I  suppose  some 
such  feeling  had  been  the  cause  of  his  coming. 

And  now  there  took  place  one  of  those  events 
that  were  not  so  unusual  to  that  life,  but  would 
certainly  be  very  strange  in  this,  for  these  peo 
ple  did  not  keep  their  religion  as  a  Sunday 
affair,  a  silk  hat  to  be  kept  in  a  bandbox  and 
only  taken  out  once  a  week  to  be  carefully  worn 
and  put  away  again  ;  they  kept  it  for  every-day 
use.  When  Hannah  and  Enoch  fell  out,  as 
alas,  they  sometimes  did,  it  was  not  unusual  at 
19G 


RELIGION  HELPING  LOVE 

all  for  them  finally  to  make  up  by  prayer ;  as 
when  any  domestic  trouble  occurred  in  the 
neighborhood  the  house  committee  of  Friends 
used  to  hold  a  family  service.  So  now,  this 
afternoon,  that  meeting  in  the  sitting-room, 
without  having  been  called  for  any  such  pur 
pose,  became  a  religious  meeting. 

Can  one  imagine  that  after-dinner  quiet ;  the 
thought  of  separation  of  the  two  lovers  that 
was  uppermost  in  all  minds  ;  the  distressed  ap 
pearance  of  William  Olney,  and  all  the  utter 
impossibility  of  harmonizing  matters.  Gradu 
ally  the  room  settled  into  silence.  You  would 
almost  have  expected  some  one  to  say,  "  Let 
us  pray." 

But  they  did  not  do  that  in  those  days ;  they 
waited  till  a  kind  of  spiritual  silence  fell  upon 
them  as  it  did  now.  They  were  all  more  or  less 
impressionable.  They  all  felt  there  was  going 
to  be  some  manifestation  of  the  spirit.  What 
would  it  be  ?  Upon  whom  would  the  lightning 
fall? 

Hannah  saw  that  Mary  Swain  was  going  to 
speak.  She  rose  as  softly  as  she  could  and 
went  out.  Pretty  soon  she  came  back,  bringing 
Lydclie  with  her,  and  sat  down  again. 

The  mind  of  Enoch,  all  the  time,  was  ripe  for 

the  miraculous.  Here  was  a  chance  for  the  healer, 

for  the  spirit  of  power,  for  love,  for  peace,  to 

return  to  earth,  and  conquer  the  stubbornness  of 

197 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

the  will.  Here  was  the  kind  of  love-feast  that 
his  soul  was  always  longing  for. 

No  one  could  repeat  the  words  of  the  good 
woman  who  rose  and  spoke  ;  and,  if  they  were 
given,  they  would  not  be  important.  They 
were  mostly  words  from  the  Bible,  and  sung 
right  into  the  soul. 

"  There  shall  be  no  parting  there,"  she  sang, 
"no  sorrowing  there,  there  shall  be  no  marrying 
or  giving  in  marriage,  but  all  shall  be  like  the 
angels  of  heaven." 

What  pangs  of  jealousy  these  words  had  once 
caused  Hannah  years  ago  when  she  heard 
Enoch  going  over  them  and  she  thought  of  him 
in  heaven  and  not  her  husband  and  she  not  his 
wife!  It  seemed  impossible.  But  now  there 
was  something  exquisitely  peaceful  and  blessed 
about  the  thought  of  a  love  that  had  nothing  of 
earthly  marriage  in  it ;  no  jealousy,  no  hateful 
pang,  but  only  peace  and  rest ;  delightful  heav 
enly  rest  and  mutual  confidence  and  harmony. 

The  speech  of  this  sweet  Quaker  woman  was 
like  a  service  in  church,  every  note  of  which 
sends  the  fancy  wandering  off,  searching  its  past, 
anticipating  its  future  ;  now  through  our  child 
hood,  our  present  sorrows,  our  future  joys ;  leav 
ing  us  at  last  with  our  friends,  our  lovers,  in  a 
world  to  come.  That  must  be  the  meaning  of 
religion,  that  where  troubles  are  irresolvable 
here  they  are  loosed  in  heaven.  It  is  the  time, 

198 


RELIGION  HELPING  LOVE 

the  place,  the  voice,  the  impression  of  sincerity 
carried  with  it  that  go  to  the  soul  like  the  smile 
of  heavenly  peace  and  have  their  effect  in  a 
sermon  like  this.  Mary  Swain  did  not  often 
speak  in  meeting,  but  when  she  did  it  was  with 
great  power  of  the  spirit. 

And  long  before  she  had  ceased  speaking, 
there  was  not  a  dry  eye  in  the  room.  William 
Olney  had  gone  over  to  Lyddie's  side  and  had 
taken  her  unresisting  hand  and  was  standing 
by  her.  She  was  crying  silently.  When  the 
speaker  ceased  her  good  words,  the  room  was 
silent  for  a  time,  but  all  felt  then  that  these  two 
ought  to  be  left  alone,  they  ought  to  speak  to 
gether  now  and  perhaps  finally,  so  they  went 
out  and  left  them. 

That  was  a  good  deal  the  kind  of  religious 
meeting  these  people  were  accustomed  to  ;  and 
what  gentleness,  what  peace  came  from  it !  How 
they  felt  drawn  together  in  spite  of  spirit 
ualism  or  Quakerism  or  anything  else.  They 
followed  the  Swains  out  to  their  wagon,  mostly 
silent.  The  thought  of  those  two  young  people 
in  the  house  was  too  sad  to  express.  I  don't 
believe  there  was  anything  further  said  except 
the  good-by's,  only  as  the  boy  James  was  lin 
gering  about  the  Swains,  hoping  something 
might  happen  to  keep  them  longer,  Shubal  said 
to  him,  "James,  thee  had  better  not  get  too  near 
old  Jerry's  hind  foot,  he  has  been  known  to 
199 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

kick.  I  don't  think  lie  will,  but  it's  best  not  to 
get  too  close  to  him." 

Within  the  house  were  two  sad  souls.  Will 
iam  Olney  had  gotten  down  beside  Lyddie,  and 
was  holding  her  hand. 

"  No,  Lyddie,  I  shall  have  no  thought  of  self- 
destruction,  or  of  shirking  niy  duty.  I  am  glad 
that  we  think  alike  in  this  matter.  If  tliee  per 
sists  in  thy  resolution  and  I  cannot  persuade 
thee,  but  must  obey  thoe,  then  be  sure  I  shall 
live  as  best  I  can,  as  honestly  and  uprightly 
as  I  may  know  how.  I  am  not  impulsive  and 
impetuous,  I  fear  my  soul  is  sluggish  and  not 
easily  fired  to  great  or  rash  deeds,  whether  of 
good  or  evil.  I  have  often  wished  that  I  had 
more  of  the  soul  of  the  poet,  that  is  easily 
moved  to  great  suffering  and  great  joy,  and  per 
haps  to  great  imaginations  of  both.  But  I  feel 
I  have  not ;  I  am  plain  and  practical.  I  do  not 
know  what  my  whole  future  life  may  be,  of 
course,  but  I  know  of  the  past  that  I  have  never 
loved  another  woman  but  thee,  and  it  is  not 
likely  that  I  shall  in  the  future.  But  I  can  live 
even  so,  and  if  thee  says  I  must,  thee  must  be 
obeyed.  In  one  thing,  however,  I  wish  thee  to 
hear  me,  and  I  beg  of  thee  to  accept  my  counsel 
and  advice.  It  is  hard  to  speak  of  it,  but  I 
know  thee  will  not  impute  selfish  motive." 

And  then  he  urged  her  not  to  hasten  her 
marriage,  not  to  do  anything  rash,  to  let  the 
200 


KELIGION  HELPING  LOVE 

young  man  give  proof  of  his  constancy  and 
steadiness. 

"  Oh,  Lydia,"  he  went  on  passionately,  "  I 
could  not  bear  to  think  of  thee  a  drunkard's 
wife ;  and  yet,  if  that  is  thy  duty,"  he  said,  "I 
know  thee  will  not  shirk  it  either."  And  then 
he  pleaded  with  her  before  giving  him  a  final 
answer  to  consider  it  well ;  to  consider  whether 
they  were  not  really  betrothed  by  his  confession 
of  affection  for  her  and  that  kiss ;  whether  she 
had  a  right  to  marry  another  man,  when  her  soul 
and  his  were  united  in  affection. 

"  What  God  has  joined  together,"  he  con 
cluded  in  words  that  seemed  better  than  any  he 
could  form,  "should  not  be  separated  in  this 
life  ;  and  are  we  not  as  much  united  as  though 
we  had  stood  up  in  the  meeting  and  made  our 
agreement  before  the  eyes  of  men  ?  " 

Lyddie  had  recovered  from  her  weeping, 
which  had  been  the  immediate  effect  of  Mary 
Swain's  speaking,  and  her  gentle  reason  had  re 
asserted  its  sway.  She  freed  herself  quietly  but 
firmly  from  "William  Olney's  embrace. 

"Mary  Swain's  words,"  she  said,  "are  always 
good ;  they  seem  to  go  right  through  one  and 
stir  one  as  those  of  almost  no  other  person  ; 
but  they  must  not  lead  us  to  forget  ourselves. 
It  is  very  kind  of  thee  to  think  only  of  my  wel 
fare  at  this  trying  moment ;  it  shows  the  good 
ness  of  thy  heart,  and,  far  from  imputing  false 
201 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

motives,  I  think  it  best  to  follow  thy  advice,  so 
much  of  it  certainly  as  concerns  the  avoidance 
of  haste." 

And  then  she  reasserted  that  he  was  mistaken 
if  he  thought  merely  because  of  a  promise  given 
to  the  young  man,  she  would  not  change  her 
mind;  that  would  be  to  act  from  mere  obsti 
nacy,  for  a  bad  promise  was  always  better  broken 
than  kept ;  and  if  she  thought  keeping  that  one 
were  going  to  make  both  of  them  unhappy,  she 
would  try  to  find  some  way  of  not  keeping  it. 

"  It  is  not  the  promise,"  she  said,  "  it  is  the 
cause  that  led  me  to  make  the  promise ;  that 
alas,  still  exists." 

Then  she  talked  to  him  in  a  way  that  very 
few  other  young  girls  have  ever  adopted  for  de 
clining  marriage  proposals.  It  was  more  like  a 
sermon.  It  was  this  way  of  speaking  that  made 
young  Melwin  say,  finally,  he  felt  as  if  he  were 
courting  his  grandmother.  It  was  a  good  deal 
the  Loisa  Painter  style  of  expression. 

"  My  mind  has  been  dwelling  on  very  peculiar 
things,  William  Olney,"  she  began;  "I  know 
thee  will  think  it  strange,  but  I  have  been 
thinking  of  thee  as  though  I  were  thy  mother, 
and  loved  thee  as  only  a  mother  can  love  her 
son  ;  and,  then,  that  someone  came  between  us 
and  captured  thy  affection,  and  that  all  the 
pangs  of  parting  came  upon  me.  My  fancy 
carried  out  the  picture  and  made  of  me  a 
202 


RELIGION   HELPING  LOVE 

woman  old  and  solitary,  separated  from  all  who 
ought  to  love  me,  and  by  my  fault  alone." 

Then  she  "  carried  out  the  picture,"  and  such 
thoughts  were  too  strong  for  her ;  she  could 
not  resist  them.  She  put  herself  in  his  father's 
place  also,  and  it  did  not  seem  to  her  that 
William  Olney's  proposition  was  a  good  one; 
and  every  time  she  looked  it  through,  she  came 
to  the  same  conclusion. 

Then,  as  Lyddie  tried  to  free  her  hand  from 
William  Olney's  clasp,  he  said:  "Nay;  with 
thy  permission,  I  will  still  hold  thy  hand." 

He  held  it,  too,  as  he  went  on  and  said: 
"  Does  thee  remember  how,  when  I  first  knew 
thee,  thee  wanted  to  make  sport  of  me  for  my 
lack  of  scriptural  knowledge?  Since  then  I 
have  sought  to  repair  that  lack,  and  have 
learned  that  the  Bible  says, '  the  wife  shall  leave 
father  and  mother  and  cleave  to  her  husband ; ' 
and  as  for  separation  in  families,  Christ  says 
himself  that  he  is  the  cause  of  such,  for  he 
says, '  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  bring  peace ; 
I  come  not  to  bring  peace,  but  the  sword;' 
and  then  continues,  saying  how  religion  shall 
bring  separation  among  all  members  of  the 
family. 

"Lydia,"  AVilliam  Olney's   last  words  were, 

"we  love  each  other,  and  there  is  nothing  on 

earth  or  in  heaven  that  can  separate  us.     We 

belong  to   each  other,  and  thee   will  be  doing 

203 


ENOCH   WILLOUGEBY 

wrong,  very  wrong,  if  thee  carries  out  what  thee 
is  contemplating." 

But  the  most  he  could  get  from  Lyddie  was 
assent  not  to  hasten.  She  would  think  over  the 
matter  ;  she  would  wait  for  an  impression  ; 
she  would  listen  to  the  inward  voice  of  the 
spirit ;  and,  if  anything  better  was  given  her  to 
do,  she  would  let  him  know ;  but  he  must  not 
see  her,  he  must  not  try  to  influence  her. 


204 


XVIII 

WILLIAM   PRICE'S   HAND 

THIS  love-story,  whose  foundation,  difficulty, 
and  solution  all  depended  upon  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby,  his  dreams  and  visions  and  so  on,  in 
order  to  turn  out  well  ought  perhaps  to  have 
had  some  startling  catastrophe  to  decide  its 
course.  It  might  have  come  about,  for  in 
stance,  that  the  spirit  some  night  should  rouse 
up  old  "William  Price  and  compel  him  to  leave 
his  bed  of  feathers — or  maybe  it  was  only  a  hair 
mattress — hunt  up  his  son,  and  make  manifest 
his  repentance,  and  so  bring  the  young  people 
together  and  let  all  end  happily. 

Or  it  might  have  come  about  that  William 
Price  should  persevere  in  his  obstinacy,  which 
would  have  been  more  natural ;  and,  when  he 
found  that  William  Olney  had  been  visiting  the 
girl  again,  and  that  the  Willoughbys  were  very 
slow  about  removing  to  another  neighborhood, 
that  he  should  be  afraid  the  girl  would  at  last 
marry  the  young  man  without  regard  to  his 
parents'  wishes — which  would  have  been  noth 
ing  very  strange — and  so  should  cast  about  for 
205 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

some  other  means  of  getting  rid  of  his  trouble 
some  neighbors. 

In  that  case,  of  course,  he  might  have  run 
across  old  Abijah  Willetts,  who  lived  down  on 
Nine  Mile  Creek,  below  the  John  Willoughbys', 
and  was  really  one  of  the  most  bigoted  old  time 
serving  hypocrites  that  ever  lived,  and  have 
given  him  some  indirect  hint  in  such  a  way  that 
no  one  could  at  all  accuse  him  of  it,  to  give 
Ted  Blood  a  little  more  direct  and  intelligible 
hint ;  and  so,  by  passing  the  matter  on  down 
among  those  who  lived  in  that  region,  finally 
have  brought  it  to  the  very  man  whom  Enoch 
Willoughby  had  angered  that  time  by  giving 
him  some  plain  advice  under  spiritual  impres 
sion,  the  very  man,  naturally,  from  whom 
Enoch  had  received  that  anonymous,  threaten 
ing  communication.  In  this  way,  William 
Price  might,  indirectly,  and  from  afar  off,  as  it 
were,  have  been  the  cause  of  arousing  against 
the  Willoughbys  a  very  low  and  coarse  lot  of 
people,  and  so  finally  have  brought  about  the 
catastrophe.  That  would  not  have  been  im 
probable.  For  religious  feeling  can  be  the 
worst  feeling  there  is,  just  as  it  is  the  best.  All 
emotions  may  be  gauged  by  their  opposites. 
What  is  more  touching  than  filial  love,  and  what 
more  awful  than  a  son's  or  father's  curse  ?  Even 
in  this  day  and  age  of  our  story  there  was  plenty 
of  religious  feeling.  You  could  find  people 
206 


WILLIAM   PEICE'S   HAND 

• 

enough  advocating  church  union  and  charity  as 
long  as  it  was  a  question  between  the  old  estab 
lished  denominations ;  but  mention  spiritualism 
to  them,  and  it  was  a  red  rag  flaunted  in  the  eye 
of  the  maddest  bull  of  Spain.  Their  charity 
was  all  gone  in  a  minute.  They  lost  reason  and 
control  of  themselves.  They  felt  a  good  deal  as 
Rachel  Price  did  when  she  learned  that  her  son, 
William  Olney,  was  in  love  with  a  spiritual  me 
dium  and  threw  up  her  hands  in  holy  horror. 

The  words  of  old  William  Price,  when  he  was 
talking  to  his  son  and  to  Enoch  Willoughby, 
were  nothing  but  natural.  There  are  many 
people  who  would  feel  the  same  way,  would 
have  great  sympathy  with  him  in  those  words. 

It  was  the  rarest  kind  of  nature  that  could 
talk  like  old  Shubal  Swain  when  he  spoke  to 
William  Price  about  the  matter.  I  do  not  know 
what  the  occasion  was — the  occasion  does  not 
matter, — but  this  is  the  substance  of  the  words 
that  were  forced  out  of  Shubal  Swain  when 
speaking  with  William  Price. 

"  Why,  thee  talks,"  he  said,  "  as  if  to  read  the 
Bible  were  wrong  ;  is  thee  afraid  to  trust  thy 
Bible  in  the  hands  of  any  one  to  read  ?  I  have 
more  confidence  in  it.  Let  Enoch  Willoughby 
read  it  and  re-read  it.  The  truth  it  contains 
cannot  be  crushed.  Has  thee  no  charity  for  a 
spiritualist  ?  Did  not  God  create  him  too  ?  If 
their  belief  is  false,  can  it  stand  in  the  world  be- 
207 


fore  truth?  If  there  is  nothing  in  planchetto 
boards  and  dark  cabinets  and  strange  mysteries, 
does  thee  believe  the  world  is  going  to  be  de 
ceived  by  them  for  long?  I  have  too  much  con 
fidence  in  the  good  sense  of  the  world  and  in  its 
final  outcome.  Does  thee  believe  that  all  our 
Quaker  speakers  are  held  by  the  spirit  of  Christ  ? 
I  fear,  alas,  that  even  some  of  tJicin  have  seen  the 
spirit  only  as  through  a  glass  darkly.  Does  thee 
think  it  impossible  that  Christ  should  ever  err? 
Might  not  his  human  imagination  have  overrated 
the  powers  that  were  with  him,  and  may  not  he 
too  have  attributed  to  God  in  him  what  the  im 
mutable  laws  of  nature  would  never  allow  ?  It 
is  better  to  consider  the  frailty  of  all  human 
nature  and  be  charitable.  Enoch  Willoughby 
believes  he  was  visited  by  the  spirit  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  I  do  not  believe  it.  I  think  it  was 
his  imagination.  Jesus  believed  that  the  Devil 
took  him  up  into  a  high  mountain.  If  that  was 
not  his  imagination,  in  what  form  does  thee  sup 
pose  that  Satan  presented  himself  to  him  ?  We 
must  have  charity,  and,  when  religion  comes  into 
the  world  simply  to  make  people  hate  one  an 
other,  it  might  be  better  if  it  had  never  come. 
Wickedness  and  fraud  must  be  shunned,  but 
honest  belief  is  always  worthy  of  respect." 

As  for  William  Price,  he  had  said  his  worst, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  exceed  it.  It  is  per 
haps  not  overstating  it  at  all  to  say  that  he 

208 


WILLIAM   PRICE'S  HAND 

would  have  preferred  his  son  should  marry  a 
woman  of  the  town  rather  than  a  spiritual  me 
dium.  In  his  mind  mediums  were  witches  ;  the 
Devil  was  incarnated  in  them.  He  shuddered 
at  the  very  thought  of  them. 

"  AVhy,  they  are  human,"  Shubal  Swain  said 
to  him.  "  We  have  been  at  their  houses.  We 
have  even  heard  these  women  they  call  Susan 
and  P'lene,  speak  under  the  influence." 

"  It's  insanity,"  William  Price  interrupted ; 
"  they  are  all  crazy  or  on  the  high  road  to  in 
sanity.  Can  a  man  lose  his  own  mind  and  re 
tain  it  at  the  same  time  ?  Can  one  be  in  the 
possession  of  another,  and  at  the  same  time  pos 
sess  himself  ?  It  is  useless  to  talk  to  me,  Shu 
bal  Swain.  It  is  useless  to  try  to  reconcile  me 
with  them.  If  I  have  the  spirit  of  a  persecutor, 
I  have  the  spirit  of  a  persecutor." 

"  Our  fathers  themselves  were  burned  as 
witches,"  Shubal  interposed.  But  William 
Price  would  not  listen ;  he  could  not  hear  that 
side  of  it.  Times  had  changed  for  him  and  men 

o 

had  changed.  Authority  for  him  was  everything; 
the  law,  tradition,  the  established  and  unvary 
ing  order  of  the  old  was  all  that  had  value ;  he 
could  not  conceive  of  the  new  being  right,  even 
distantly,  or  partially.  He  was  a  type  of  man 
kind,  as  Enoch  Willoughby  was  a  type,  as  Shu 
bal  Swain  was  an  extraordinary  and  wonderful 
Christian  type. 

209 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

Thus  it  might  have  been  that  the  man,  Abijah 
Willetts,  went  on  that  time  with  some  sugges 
tion  dropped  from  William  Price. 

Willetts  was  the  kind  of  man  to  take  such 
suggestion.  He  was  a  type  of  religious  bigotry 
and  hypocrisy  such  as  can  hardly  be  found  at 
the  present  time  in  America,  except  in  the  back 
woods —  poor,  pitiable  specimens  of  narrow- 
mindedness.  Abijah  Willetts  was  known  to 
have  said  he  would  not  go  across  the  lane  on 
Sunday  to  save  a  man's  life.  Probably  this 
was  exaggeration,  but  an  exaggeration  that  well 
indicated  the  man's  character.  Sunday  observ 
ance  was  something  tangible ;  it  touched  Abi 
jah  on  the  formal,  outward  side  of  things,  the 
side  he  could  appreciate.  The  mysterious,  in 
ner,  conscience  side,  he  knew  little  about. 

He  heard  Enoch  Willoughby  was  a  Sabbath- 
breaker.  He  himself  would  have  plotted  on 
Sunday  to  cheat  the  poorest  widow  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  but  he  would  have  done  so  only  while 
riding  to  meeting  or  sitting  on  the  high  benches 
there  or  sanctimoniously  pursuing  his  other  Sun 
day  observances.  Perhaps  we  paint  him  blacker 
than  he  was,  but  surely  not  blacker  than  his 
type,  surely  not  too  black  for  what  follows. 

Abijah  Willetts  had  a  good  reputation,  and 
yet  he  had  been  known — let  us  whisper  it,  for 
the  sake  of  that  humanity  to  which  we  all  be 
long — to  take  money  from  a  friend  and  put  it 
210 


WILLIAM   PRICE'S  HAND 

in  his  safe  for  accommodation,  without  witness 
es  of  course,  and  then  to  forget  absolutely  that 
he  had  ever  taken  it.  It  was  said  that  on  dark 
nights  he  did  not  like  to  come  home  from  town 
alone,  and  no  wonder ;  that  he  went  armed, 
and  people  could  not  understand  it ;  a  man  of 
his  character ;  a  man  whose  blessing  at  table 
was  the  essence  of  grace ;  a  man  who  could 
preach  and  speak  with  the  very  words  of  heal 
ing,  do  you  think  that  lie  twitched  and  jerked  in 
his  utterances,  or  was  moved  by  an  unbecom 
ing  spirit  ?  Never. 

William  Price  believed  that  the  theory  of 
spiritualism  was  wrong ;  Abijah  Willetts  thought 
that  the  actions  of  spiritualists  were  bad  and 
ought  to  be  prohibited.  It  required  only  such 
a  man  as  Ted  Blood  to  say  "  that  nest  of  spirit 
ualists  ought  to  be  broken  up,"  and  to  send  that 
letter  to  Enoch  Willoughby. 

Enoch  Willoughby  said  little  about  the  letter. 
He  was  not  a  man  to  fear  anything  or  anybody, 
and  he  simply  threw  it  aside.  He  had  better 
have  taken  Hannah's  advice,  believed  what  he 
chose  and  kept  still  about  it.  But  he  could 
not  do  that.  If  he  believed  that  some  sorrow 
ing  spirit  wanted  him  to  take  a  message  to  Ted 
Blood  that  might  prevent  his  abusing  his  wife, 
he  thought  he  must  carry  it.  If  he  felt  that 
some  spirit  nearly  related  to  Abijah  Willetts 
was  grieving  over  his  short-sightedness  and 
211 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

narrowness  of  vision,  he  could  not  resist  the 
influence  exerted  upon  his  sympathy  to  send 
Abijah  Willetts  some  such  book  as  Robert  Dale 
Owen's  "Footprints  in  the  Debatable  Laud,"  or 
a  spiritual  journal,  which  Abijah  refused  to  take 
from  the  post-office,  and  over  which  he  was  very 
greatly  offended. 

"  Does  he  want  every  one  to  imagine  that  I 
am  a  spiritualist '?  "  Abijah  said. 

He  would  not  touch  the  horrid  sheet.  "Don't 
ever  offer  it  to  me  again,"  he  told  the  postmis 
tress  in  high  dudgeon. 

And  Hannah  said  to  Enoch  :  "  It  is  very  fool 
ish  for  thee  to  try  to  convert  people  ;  what  is 
the  difference  what  they  believe  ?  If  thee  has 
found  something  good,  keep  it  and  enjoy  it 
thyself."  But  that  was  not  Enoch's  idea ;  the 
same  spirit  that  made  him  generous  in  money 
matters  made  him  prodigal  of  ideas.  The 
man  did  really  look  upon  himself  as  subject 
to  the  will  of  a  higher  power,  and  obliged  to 
obey  it. 

There  was  also    some    other  point  in  here. 

The  sources  of  our  history  are  a  little  inexact. 
It  was  a  matter  of  turning  a  payment  for  work 
from  Ted  Blood  to  Leonard  Ramsdell,  the  hus 
band  of  that  spiritual  medium,  Susan.  Rams- 
dell  was  poor  and  had  done  some  carpentering 
for  Blood,  which  Blood  never  intended  to  pay. 
There  are  people  like  that  who  will  pay  some 
212 


WILLIAM   PRICE'S   HAND 

debts  and  not  others,  who  think  certain  people 
ought  to  be  paid,  and  certain  others  not ;  in 
other  words,  who  pay  their  creditors  by  getting 
angry  at  them.  Blood  had  worked  for  Enoch 
Willoughby,  and  Enoch  had  taken  Blood's  note 
to  Eanisdell,  and  presented  it  in  part  payment 
of  his  own  debt.  There  was  no  way  of  avoiding 
the  payment,  and  this  was  another  cause  of  an 
ger  in  Blood  against  Enoch  Willoughby. 

Exactly  the  run  of  these  events,  I  cannot 
give ;  but  there  was  another  threatening  letter 
sent  to  Enoch  Willoughby,  a  whitecap  letter, 
with  skull  and  cross-bones  at  the  top,  a  threat 
of  a  whipping  for  his  spiritualism  and  witch 
craft.  He  was  ordered  to  leave  the  country  at 
once.  The  letter,  of  course,  was  not  signed ; 
but  Enoch  Willoughby  knew  without  the  possi 
bility  of  mistake,  it  had  come  from  Ted  Blood. 
He  knew  that  Blood  was  countenanced  by  Abi- 
jah  Willetts,  and  that  probably  the  threat  would 
not  be  displeasing  to  William  Price  under  the 
circumstances.  He  pondered  the  letter  deeply, 
and  came  to  a  conclusion  quite  contrary  to  all 
the  plans  we  had  made  to  bring  about  a  strik 
ing  catastrophe  to  this  story. 

He  said  to  himself :  "  People  misjudge  be 
cause  they  do  not  understand.  The  hatred  and 
harshness  and  violence  of  the  world  come  from 
the  fact  that  men  live  apart  from  one  another 
and  do  not  know  one  another." 
213 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

"  Such  men  as  Ted  Blood  are  not  capable  of 
understanding  anything,"  Hannah  said. 

But  Enoch  would  not  admit  that  any  man  is 
incapable  of  understanding  human  sympathy 
and  cannot  be  moved  by  kindness  and  reason. 

"  Does  thee  know  what  I  am  going  to  do, 
Hannah  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  am  going  to  see  Ted 
Blood  and  show  him  how  wicked  and  foolish  he 
is,  and  how  he  misunderstands  the  simplest 
things." 

Then  followed  a  time  with  Hannah  worse  a 
great  deal  than  when  Enoch  was  about  to  go 
to  talk  with  William  Price.  Here  there  was 
danger  ahead,  real  danger;  and  he  ought  not 
to  expose  himself  to  it,  she  said.  But  from  the 
moment  the  idea  came  into  the  mind  of  Enoch 
Willoughby,  he  had  determined  to  carry  it  out. 
He  was  not  like  anybody  else.  He  was  queer, 
like  all  the  AVilloughbys. 

He  wished  there  was  some  way  to  show  the 
man  his  friendliness  and  his  good  character. 

"  I  wish  there  was  some  good  way  of  having 
him  arrested  and  thoroughly  punished,"  Han 
nah  said. 

And  so  it  came  about  that  he  went  again  to 
the  neighborhood  of  Nine  Mile,  and,  as  good 
luck  would  have  it,  found  there  the  opportunity 
he  had  been  wanting  of  converting  the  man  to 
friendliness.  He  found  Blood's  child  sick  of 
diphtheria,  the  man  away  from  home,  the  family 
214 


WILLIAM   PKICE'S  HAND 

much  frightened  and  despondent,  not  knowing 
what  to  do;  and  he  immediately  encouraged 
them  to  hope  that  something  might  be  done, 
went  for  the  doctor,  stayed  all  night,  and  sat  up 
and  helped  nurse  the  child,  which  in  the  morn 
ing  was  much  better  and  likely  to  recover. 
When  Blood  went  back  and  found  what  had 
been  done  ho  was  won.  The  coldest  ice  can  be 
thawed  by  the  sunshine,  and  the  hardest  heart 
can  be  softened  by  love.  Here  was  the  father's 
love  for  the  child,  which  the  preacher's  love  of 
humanity  usurped  and  grew  in,  and  when  the 
child  became  better  and  Enoch  Willoughby  went 
away,  Ted  Blood  would  have  given  anything  if 
he  had  never  written  that  letter. 

He  said  to  himself  it  had  not  been  signed, 
and  Enoch  Willoughby  could  not  know  that  he 
had  written  it ;  but  the  thought  did  not  long 
give  him  satisfaction.  He  finally  went,  volun 
tarily,  to  Enoch  Willoughby,  confessed  that  he 
wrote  the  letter  and  sent  it.  Pie  blustered  and 
swore  now  as  roundly  and  violently  as  before 
that  he  would  like  to  see  anybody  touch  Enoch 
Willoughby  to  harm  him,  and  from  that  time  on 
the  very  people  down  Nine  Mile  who  had  been 
most  dangerous  were  the  ones  who  took  up  most 
freely  the  new  doctrine.  They  came  most  to  the 
house  to  listen  to  it,  had  least  offence  that  it 
was  unorthodox,  and  were  more  and  more  Enoch 
Willoughby 's  followers  and  supporters. 
215 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

Thus  imagination  was  cheated  of  its  plot — 
a  sort  of  White  Cap  attempt  to  beat  the  devil 
out  of  Enoch  Willoughby  with  hickory  withes. 
It  was  very  hard  to  carry  through  such  a  plot 
as  that  with  a  man  who  was  absolutely  honest, 
without  a  particle  of  deception  in  his  nature, 
with  a  strong  love  for  humanity,  and  universal 
sympathy.  It  came  to  be  a  constant  complaint 
with  Hannah  herself  that  he  associated  so  freely 
with  Nick  Reynolds  and  Sam  Cox,  and  old  man 
Small,  and  especially  with  the  Bloods  and  Frames 
and  Binghams ;  and  made  no  objection  to  the 
children  going  with  the  young  Binghams  and 
playing  with  them. 

But  he  used  always  to  say,  "  Hannah,  if  the 
good  will  mingle  only  with  the  better,  where 
does  the  opportunity  for  the  improvement  of 
the  bad  come  in  ?  "  A  question  Hannah  could 
only  answer  by  saying,  "Well,  let  somebody 
else  associate  with  the  bad.  Why  should  we  do 
it  any  more  than  others  ?  " 

People  became  acquainted  with  these  ideas  of 
his  and  liked  them.  They  began  to  praise  him. 
They  turned  even  the  John  Willoughby  family 
into  a  subject  of  praise  of  Enoch,  and  told  how 
much  he  had  helped  his  older  brother  and  how 
various  ones  of  the  children  had  come  upon  him 
for  assistance,  and  how  these  very  children  were 
accustomed  to  speak  slightingly  of  him  and  of 
his  belief.  They  saw  how  foolishly  proud  they 
216 


WILLIAM  PRICE'S  HAND 

were,  and  how  little  they  had  to  be  proud  of, 
and  yet  how  they  could  all  depend  upon  Uncle 
Enoch,  and  all  those  things  they  liked  in  him. 
They  began  to  want  to  know  something  of  what 
such  a  man  actually  did  believe,  and  began  to 
come  about  more  and  more.  In  fact,  if  Enoch 
Willoughby  at  this  time  had  wanted  to  go  back 
to  the  Church,  he  would  have  found  it  difficult  to 
do  so.  He  had  become  known  as  the  advocate 
of  a  new  doctrine,  his  reputation  was  fixing  it 
self  ;  the  new  wine  was  going  into  new  wine- 
flasks,  and,  instead  of  a  dramatic  and  strange 
ending  to  our  story,  it  has  become  simply  the 
founding  of  a  new  sect,  the  going  over  to  a  new 
religion. 


217 


XIX 

TIME  AND   AFFECTION   AGAINST  REASON 

AND  as  the  spiritualism  gradually  fixed  itself 
the  chances  for  a  happy  solution  of  the  love  af 
fair  became  fewer  and  fewer.  Everyone  con 
nected  with  it  was  perverse  and  obstinate  still. 
William  Price's  objections  could  hardly  be  ex 
pected  ever  to  grow  less  ;  Lyddie's  reason  would 
not  allow  her  to  yield,  though  she  did  see  Will 
iam  Olney  occasionally,  and  her  sense  of  humor 
sometimes  got  the  better  of  the  pathos  of  the 
situation. 

Once  William  Oluey  said  to  her,  with  all  the 
gravity  of  his  Quaker  style,  "  Lydia,  I  can  think 
of  nothing  now  but  to  take  thee  boldly  by  main 
force  and  carry  thee  off,  as  they  used  to  do  in 
olden  times." 

And  Lyddie  replied,  with  the  same  humor, 
"  I  could  almost  find  it  in  my  heart  to  wish  thee 
might  do  even  that." 

But  when  they  talked  about  it  seriously, -Lyd- 
die  ran  against  that  inevitable  train  of  reason 
ing,  her  conclusions  remained  the  same.  There 
did  not  seem  to  be  any  possibility  of  a  different 
arrangement. 

218 


TIME   AND   AFFECTION 

Meanwhile  young  Aaron  Melwin  was  becom 
ing  tired  of  waiting.  He  was  saying  to  himself 
he  felt  a  good  deal  as  though  he  were  courting 
his  grandmother.  In  truth,  Lyddie  was  greatly 
his  superior,  and  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that 
the  most  incongruous  marriages  are  constantly 
being  made,  no  one  would  ever  have  thought  it 
possible  that  Lyddie  O'Mara  should  marry 
Aaron  Melwin.  Her  motherly  character  at 
tracted  him  ;  he  liked  having  some  one  to  look 
after  him,  though,  as  a  result,  he  did  as  he 
pleased  much  more  freely  than  before.  It  was 
an  attraction  such  as  young  men  have  sometimes 
for  a  woman  ten  years  their  senior — tremendous 
respect,  with  awe  and  perhaps  affection  at  first, 
and  at  last,  restraint. 

Lyddie's  reproaches  and  mild  sermons  to 
young  Melwin,  when  she  heard  of  his  escapades, 
he  considered  very  delightful.  He  took  them  as 
the  natural  corrective  to  the  escapades  them 
selves,  satisfied  his  conscience  by  listening  to 
them,  boasted  that  he  had  taken  his  lecture  or 
sermon  and  was  now  good  again;  but,  after  a 
while,  he  failed  to  put  in  his  appearance  to  re 
ceive  them.  Lyddie's  reproofs  were  now  at 
times  less  graciously  received,  and  meanwhile 
Lyddie  herself  was  slowly  arriving  at  a  decision. 

Lyddie  would  never  have  acknowleged  that 
she  engaged  herself  to  Aaron  Melwin  because 
she  had  determined  not  to  marry  William  Olney ; 
219 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

she  would  have  denied,  too,  that  she  was  about 
to  free  herself  from  him  now  because  she  loved 
William  Olney  and  was  beginning  to  be  con 
quered  by  the  strength  of  his  affection.  She 
was  simply  conscious  that  she  was  losing  her 
influence  over  young  Mel  win ;  and,  if  she  could 
not  hope  to  better  his  character  by  marrying  him, 
it  was  hardly  worth  while  to  take  the  risk.  So 
she  sent  word  for  him  to  come  and  see  her,  and 
then  released  him  from  his  engagement. 

Hannah  told  her,  when  she  heard  of  it,  "  Of 
course  that  was  a  good  thing  and  sensible.  But 
now  I  suppose  thee  is  about  ready  to  accept 
William  Olney  Price,  in  spite  of  the  family  op 
position,  and  go  over  to  the  Quakers." 

There  was  a  little  touch  of  bitterness  in  this ; 
for,  since  Enoch  Willoughby  had  obtained  so 
strong  a  following,  he  had  been  better  and  better 
satisfied  to  remain  away  from  the  Quakers,  and 
had  become  more  and  more  positively  a  spiritual 
ist.  Lyddie  did  not  reply,  but  it  is  true  she 
began  to  recast  her  argument,  to  run  through 
her  reasoning  again.  In  fact  she  had  already 
yielded  when  William  Olney  gained  time.  It 
was  then  he  really  won  his  case ;  and  when  the 
girl  had  made  up  her  mind  in  this  way,  it  would 
be  just  as  hard  to  change  her  as  before. 

"  Lyddie  is  just  like  Enoch,"  said  Hannah ; 
"  she  acts  from  pure  obstinacy  and  nothing  else." 

However  that  may  be,  there  was  love  in  the 
220 


TIME   AND   AFFECTION 

case  on  both  sides,  and  who  can  blame  the  girl? 
William  Olney  was  constant  and  persistent.  We 
may  be  sure  that  he  did  not  magnify  the  opposi 
tion  of  his  family,  or  make  the  family  separation 
appear  greater  than  it  really  was.  Lyddie  could 
not  avoid  contrasting  the  two  possible  futures : 
she  thought  of  Rachel  and  Sally  Price  and  their 
elegant  home  and  surroundings ;  of  the  good  old 
Quaker  meeting  and  the  friends  she  had  there — 
there  was  a  glamour,  a  halo  of  respectability 
about  all  this  that  attracted  her  unconsciously. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  were  the  spiritualists ; 
there  were  Susan  and  P'lene,  and  three  or  four 
others  who  had  come  to  the  country  recently. 
There  was  no  difficulty  in  seeing  what  was  better 
from  a  worldly  point  of  view. 

Then  again  she  had  felt  the  same  spiritual 
"  influence  "  at  Quaker  meetings  as  at  spiritual 
meetings.  When  old  Uncle  Allen  used  to  go 
under  "influence,"  and  she  sat  in  the  silence  of 
the  Quaker  meeting  and  watched  him,  she  had 
felt  the  presence  of  something  mysterious  about 
her ;  her  hands  grew  cold ;  an  indefinable  thrill 
passed  over  her ;  she  was  almost  irresistibly  im 
pelled  to  rise  and  speak  as  she  had  been  in  the 
spiritual  meetings. 

She  said  to  herself,  "It  is  the  same  thing,  the 
same  something,  whatever  it  is,  that  makes  the 
Quaker  women  preach,  that  makes  some  other 
women  become  spiritual  mediums." 
221 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

The  one  was  honored ;  the  other  was  neglected, 
and  by  some  probably  despised.  She  knew 
these  were  all  worldly  motives,  and  she  put  them 
resolutely  from  her  ;  but  they  returned  as  reso 
lutely  again.  She  thought  of  Loisa  Painter,  and 
she  thought  of  Susan  llamsdell;  which  would 
she  rather  become?  In  case  the  spirit  came 
upon  her,  what  would  she  rather  be,  a  Quaker 
preacher  or  a  spiritual  medium  ? 

These  are  not  the  usual  thoughts  of  a  young 
girl  when  she  is  considering  whether  to  marry 
the  man  who  loves  her  or  not,  but  they  were  the 
thoughts,  worldly  thoughts,  it  is  true,  that  ran 
through  Lyddie  O'Mara's  mind;  and  who  can 
blame  her  if  the  balance  inclined  toward  the 
Quakers?  Suppose,  too,  William  Price  should 
become  reconciled  ;  and  such  a  thing  was  possi 
ble.  She  knew  Rachel  Price  liked  her ;  had  she 
not  said  "  she  was  a  good  woman  ;"  and  suppose 
she  should  become  a  speaker  in  the  meeting. 
He  would  be  as  proud  of  her  then  as  he  had 
been  harsh  to  her  before.  There  was  a  pro 
fessional  pride  in  this  too.  Lyddie  had  the 
pride  of  her  spiritual  experiences.  She  would 
have  liked  to  have  a  whole  settlement  stop  work 
ing  and  wait  breathlessly  for  what  she  should  say 
or  do,  or  even  think,  as  they  did  for  Loisa 
Painter.  Of  course  she  should  never  be  any 
thing  but  the  instrument  of  the  spirit ;  she 
should  only  be  a  bruised  reed ;  but  it  would  be 
222 


TIME  AND  AFFECTION 

very  pleasant  to  be  only  a  broken  reed  if  one 
were  taken  up  tenderly,  put  into  a  delicate  vase 
and  cared  for  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  the 
bruise. 

Poor  Lyddie!  She  fought  down  all  these 
thoughts  desperately.  She  said  to  herself  she 
was  vain,  she  was  frivolous,  she  was  worldly- 
minded.  She  wished  she  could  be  like  Enoch, 
who  took  always  the  side  of  the  poor,  the  un 
popular  ;  who  would  rather  be  called  a  spiritual 
ist  than  a  bishop,  if  only  he  were  confident  he 
was  right. 

Sometimes  in  imagination  she  could  see  her 
self  and  her  sister  as  they  became  years  after 
ward,  with  Lyddie  married  and  living  calmly  in 
the  Price  family,  the  opposition  over ;  the  sim 
ple  business  of  living,  ordinary  and  unromantic, 
and  Lyddie  giving  way  to  the  same  old  nature 
that  was  in  her  and  speaking  in  the  Quaker 
meetings.  She  would  have  become  a  Quaker 
while  the  Enoch  Willoughbys  had  gone  on  in 
the  way  they  were  going,  and  become  spiritual 
ists.  Then  it  would  be  that  Hannah  could  not 
find  expressions  too  severe  to  say  of  Lyddie: 
"  She  knew  on  which  side  her  bread  was  but 
tered  ;  she  knew  on  which  side  to  find  respecta 
bility  and  good  living,  and  that  was  all  the  girl 
cared  for.  Now  she  was  a  good  Quaker  preacher, 
was  she" — and  there  would  be  that  little  sarcas 
tic  twang  in  her  voice  that  she  knew  so  well  how 
223 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

to  manage — "  and  looked  down  on  all  the  rest  of 
them,  on  her  own  sister  probably,  as  deceived 
and  led  astray  by  the  devil.  She  had  never  sup 
posed  that  Lyddie  was  a  schemer,  for  it  ivas 
scheming,  and  Lyddie  had  used  the  spiritual 
gift  that  had  been  given  her  simply  to  make  a 
living  out  of." 

And  then  one  might  hear  Enoch's  voice. 

"  Don't  thee  suppose,  Hannah,  there  is  re 
ligion  in  all  denominations  and  outside  of  all 
denominations?  The  girl  followed  her  own  in 
clinations,  and  that  was  right.  She  loved,  and 
she  married  the  man  of  her  choice,  and  that  was 
right ;  then  the  spirit  came  to  her  again,  now 
among  the  Quakers,  and  she  became  a  Quaker 
preacher ;  if  it  had  come  to  her  among  us,  she 
would  have  been  a  medium  as  thee  is." 

"Enoch" — though  there  would  be  very  little 
connection  between  this  and  what  Enoch  had 
been  saying — "I  think  we  had  better  quit  this 
'theeing'  and  'thouing';  we  are  not  Quakers 
any  longer,  and  what  is  the  use  of  carrying  out 
the  pretence  ?  " 

And  so  they  might  have  dropped  the  conver 
sation  about  Lyddie,  and  incidentally  have  de 
cided  to  drop  the  plain  speech  also — as  they 
did ;  a  very  little  thing,  but  with  a  good  deal  of 
pathos  aboiit  it.  When  Hannah  first  said 
"  you  "  to  Enoch,  it  was  almost  as  though  she 
had  used  a  profane  word ;  it  came  with  a  shock ; 
224 


TIME  AND   AFFECTION 

it  always  had  to  be  forced  a  little,  and  was 
always  liable  to  be  replaced  by  the  more  famil 
iar  "  thee  "  whenever  one  of  them  was  sick  or  in 
any  way  needed  a  little  tenderness;  and  the 
children  said  "  thee  "  long  after  the  father  and 
mother  had  begun  to  force  themselves  to  use 
the  more  formal  style  of  address. 

But  one  would  have  thought  at  other  times, 
to  hear  Hannah,  there  could  not  be  anything 
genuine  among  the  Quakers  at  all;  that  their 
plain  clothes  and  plain  speech  were  just  show 
and  pretence,  and  their  "  Bible  worship, "  as 
she  called  it,  and  their  regularity  at  meeting 
and  orthodoxy,  mere  idolatry.  Lyddie,  on  her 
side,  though  more  careful,  had  very  little  use 
for  mediums,  and  used  occasionally  to  call  them 
fortune  tellers,  perhaps  the  harshest  expression 
she  ever  allowed  herself. 

The  girl  was  not  to  blame.  She  had  said  to 
William  Olney  she  was  "  sure  there  was  some 
thing  in  it ;  just  what  it  was,  she  did  not  know. 
She  thought  it  best,  however,  to  be  on  the  safe 
side  ;  she  feared  she  was  not  worthy  to  be  a 
martyr.  It  required  some  one  with  visions  as 
vivid  as  those  of  Enoch  "Willoughby  to  be  that. 

"  But  what  will  thee  think  of  me,  William 
Olney,  if  I  accept  thy  proposition  now  after 
all?" 

That  was  the  way  she  talked  to  him  when  he 
was  pushing  his  suit  after  he  had  learned  she 
225 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

was  free  from  young  Mel  win.  "Will  thee  not 
think  that  I  have  been  scheming  and  calcu 
lating,  and  not  at  all  in  earnest  ?  "Will  thee  not 
think  me  incapable  of  earnest  conviction,  and 
very  worldly  wise  ?  " 

But  "William  Olney  was  too  much  under  the 
influence  of  his  passion  really  to  consider  what 
he  would  thipk. 

"  I  consider  thee  only  a  beautiful  girl,  Lyclia, 
and  one  who  is  about  to  make  me  happy  for 
ever  by  consenting  to  become  my  wife,"  he  said ; 
"  and,  as  for  thy  religion,  I  have  always  told 
thee  I  knew  little  about  that.  It  does  not  seem 
to  affect  me  any.  Perhaps  I  do  not  understand 
it;  whatever  suits  theo  in  that  matter  will,  I 
am  sure,  be  right." 

"  But  what  shall  we  do,"  Lyddie  continued, 
"  about  all  these  reasonings  on  separation  in 
families,  and  how  could  I  ever  forgive  myself 
if  our  marriage  should  be  the  cause  of  such 
separation  ?  "  And  then  they  discussed  what 
they  would  do  to  reconcile  the  father  Price. 
It  was  certainly  a  singular  love  meeting. 

In  the  midst  of  it  William  Olney  said, 
"  Thinking  as  thee  does,  surely,  it  could  not 
be  wrong  or  against  thy  principles,  if  thee 
would  return  to  the  meeting  occasionally,  before 
our  engagement  is  heard  of ;  it  might  make  it 
much  easier  for  niy  father  to  become  reconciled 
to  our  marriage." 

226 


TIME  AND  AFFECTION 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Lyddie  con 
sented,  and  then  reproached  herself  for  it  when 
William  Olney  was  gone.  But  she  did  manage  to 
go  to  the  Quaker  meeting  the  next  Sunday  with 
one  of  her  brothers,  and  never  felt  so  conscience- 
smitten  in  all  her  life.  She  said  to  herself  it  was 
all  the  same  thing,  and  why  should  one  become 
a  martyr  for  an  unpopular  cause,  and  that  really 
no  cause  after  all  ?  Enoch  Willoughby  uncon 
sciously  encouraged  her  in  the  thought.  He  led 
her  to  believe  that  all  religion  was  essentially 
the  same,  that  at  the  bottom  of  it  was  the  belief 
in  immortality,  and  this  belief  was  strengthened 
and  kept  alive  by  various  mental  and  emotional 
phenomena;  that  these  varied  in  power  and 
frequency  in  different  persons  and  at  different 
times  and  periods,  and  when  they  had  lain  long 
dormant  belief  died  out  of  the  world,  and  relig 
ion  became  ethical  and  intellectual ;  from  that 
it  passed  into  the  dogmatic  and  institutional, 
and  then  became  mere  history.  Now  this  in  the 
soul  which  is  known  as  religion  should  perhaps 
be  nameless ;  for  as  soon  as  it  is  named,  a  sect 
is  formed  and  theology  has  begun ;  yet,  if  men 
will  live  in  the  world,  they  cannot  avoid  the 
forming  of  sects  any  more  than  they  can  the  use 
of  names,  and  he  had  accepted  the  consequences. 
He  called  this  something  in  the  soul  the  influ 
ence  of  spirits,  and  believed  it  to  be  caused  by 
the  actual  contact  with  the  spiritual  world  about 
227 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

us.  Others  called  it  God,  and  thought  it  sure 
to  lead  them  right;  others  might  with  equal 
justice  call  it  the  devil,  and  say  it  was  sure  to 
lead  them  wrong ;  and  not  a  few,  he  felt  sure, 
had  similar  experiences  which  they  considered 
to  be  only  the  workings  of  their  own  imagina 
tion  under  the  influence  of  the  emotion.  These 
were  low  forms  of  religion,  all  of  them,  Enoch 
Willoughby  asserted,  existing  in  close  connec 
tion  with  the  emotional  nature  ;  and  what  there 
was  of  right  or  wrong,  of  permanent  or  transi 
tory,  of  truth  or  falsehood,  in  them,  each  in 
dividual  must  find  out  from  his  own  experience. 

Lyddie  put  great  confidence  in  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby ;  his  words  were  to  her  like  law,  a  real 
explanation ;  and  they  quieted  her  conscience. 
She  could  be  just  the  same  religiously,  no  mat 
ter  to  what  church  she  belonged. 

She  was  most  concerned  about  what  interpre 
tation  might  be  put  upon  her  conduct.  "  Will 
not  thee  thyself,"  she  asked  William  Olney, 
"  some  time  say  that  I  have  acted  from  false 
motives?  No,  do  not  try  to  influence  me  by 
thy  cajolery."  He  had  probably  taken  hold  of 
her  hand  at  this  point  in  the  conversation. 

"  I  am  trying  to  put  all  that  aside,"  she  con 
tinued,  "  and  to  think  just  as  though  I  did  not 
love  thee.  Suppose  anything  should  come  up 
between  us  ;  suppose  thy  father  should  not  be 
come  reconciled  ;  and  suppose  it  should  lead 
228 


TIME  AND  AFFECTION 

tliee  to  great  trouble,  perhaps  even  to  poverty ; 
and,  in  the  difficulty  of  our  lives,  suppose  even 
our  affection  for  each  other  should  grow  less — I 
am  simply  imagining  what  might  take  place — is 
there  not,  then,  danger  that  thee  may  think  I 
have  acted  unworthily;  that  I  have  accepted 
thee,  because  I  hoped  thereby  to  lead  an  easier 
life ;  and  that  I  did  it  against  my  best  light  and 
knowledge  ?  Will  thee  never  say  that  ?  " 

And  William  Olney  replied,  "  No,  be  sure  I 
will  never  say  such  a  thing  as  that,  Lydia.  Thee 
shall  never  have  cause  to  repent  of  thy  choice, 
and  I  know  I  shall  never  repent  of  mine."  Then 
they  gave  themselves  up  to  one  another  to  love 
and  to  be  loved. 

Always  they  came  back  to  the  subject  of  how 
everyone  should  be  reconciled.  It  was  so  easy 
to  think  that  all  the  world  would  soon  be  in 
harmony,  when  they  were  in  each  other's  pres 
ence,  walking  together  in  the  garden,  or  clasping 
hands  at  meeting  or  parting.  If  only  all  the 
world  was  in  love  there  would  be  no  trouble 
about  religious  matters  ;  they  would  all  then  be 
very  easy  to  manage. 

Lyddie  felt,  most  of  all,  that  her  sister  would 
never  forgive  her  ;  not  that  Hannah  would  have 
her  do  otherwise  than  marry  William  Olney 
Price,  but  she  would  always  think  she  had  done 
so  from  motives  of  expediency,  and  Hannah 
would  say  just  what  she  thought.  That  would 
229 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

separate  them  eventually,  and  would  leave 
Hannah  alone,  for  her  younger  brothers,  Lyddie 
knew,  would  go  as  she  did.  Hannah's  quick 
words  and  impetuous  nature  did  not  fit  her  for 
leadership  ;  she  would  be  one  thing  to-day, 
another  to-morrow  ;  and  how  can  any  one  fol 
low  the  quick  changes  of  an  emotional  fancy  ? 

Lyddie  knew  all  this  and  discussed  it  with 
William  Olney.  "  Oh,  my  friend,"  she  said, 
"  thy  separation,  I  foresee,  cannot  be  greater 
than  mine,  and  whatever  comes  of  it,  we  must 
hold  together.  That  must  be  our  reward  for  the 
difficulties  we  shall  have  to  encounter." 

And  then  again  and  again  they  talked  of  how 
they  might  win  old  William  Price's  affection. 
Here  Lyddie's  enthusiasm  knew  no  bounds  ;  she 
had  confidence  in  herself;  she  did  not  know 
how  it  would  be  done,  but  some  way,  she  felt 
sure,  and  most  of  all  by  keeping  the  right  spirit. 
"  We  must,  from  the  first,"  she  said,  "  care 
nothing  for  worldly  advantages  ;  we  must  not 
be  discouraged  if  he  is  never  won,  but  persevere, 
and  disinterestedly  and  unselfishly  act  from 
motives  of  love." 

It  was  this  nice  way  of  talking  in  Lyddie 
that  Hannah  called  her  religious  cant.  She 
said  that  Lyddie  was  just  the  sweetest  kind  of  a 
hypocrite,  always  with  good  words  on  her 
tongue  ;  but  what  Hannah  said  must  be  taken, 
as  we  already  know,  with  a  little  allowance. 
230 


XX 

THE  BETROTHAL 

ONE  day  after  Lyddie  had  consented  to  the 
marriage  little  James  again  found  her  in  tears. 
She  had  told  him  of  the  approaching  event,  and 
when  the  boy  was  expressing  his  delight  she 
checked  him,  and  then  he  noticed  she  was 
crying. 

"It  is  not  all  as  bright  as  it  looks  to  be, 
James,"  she  said,  and  the  boy  immediately 
began  to  think  the  spirits  probably  were  mak 
ing  mischief  again.  "  But  I  trust  and  hope  it 
will  come  out  right,"  she  said,  and  then  she 
could  not  help  sobbing. 

The  boy  came  and  stood  by  her.  There  was 
that  kind  of  affection  between  them  that  existed 
between  him  and  his  father ;  intense,  but  calm 
and  reflective.  When  the  boy  wanted  caressing, 
he  went  to  his  mother ;  when  he  was  angry,  his 
mother  was  the  one  to  sympathize  with  him  ; 
when  he  was  afraid,  his  mother  was  afraid,  too  ; 
sometimes  they  told  each  other  ghost  stories  un 
til  they  were  both  afraid  to  stir  from  the  room. 
His  mother  recounted  to  him  her  troubles  with 
Enoch  and  Lyddie  and  the  Quakers,  in  her  own 
231 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

quick,  impetuous  way.  The  boy  knew,  when  not 
more  than  twelve  years  old,  that  his  father  did 
not  kiss  his  mother  at  parting  unless  she  sug 
gested  it ;  that  he  did  not  pet  her  or  praise  her 
as  she  wished,  but  acted  as  if  his  principles 
•were,  "  When  things  are  well  say  nothing ! "  His 
mother  was  a  child,  and  did  not  know  better 
than  to  make  a  child  her  confidant ;  or,  if  she 
knew  better,  she  did  not  care  ;  or  if  she  cared,  she 
could  not  resist  talking  to  some  one  who  could 
appreciate  her  moods  and  sympathize  with  her. 

The  boy  had  recounted  his  experience  at 
Elija  Tabor's  to  his  mother,  and  she  had 
clapped  her  hands,  and  cried,  "  Good,  good," 
and  laughed,  and  petted  and  hugged  him. 
"  Thee'll  give  it  to  them,  Jimmie,"  she  said ; 
"  thee  won't  be  a  non-resistant,  or  preach  char 
ity,  or  talk  religious  hypocrisy,  but  go  right 
through  the  world  and  fight  thy  way  like  a  man, 
knock  people  right  and  left ;  oh,  that  was  good, 
that  was  good.  Yes,  hate  thy  enemies,  and  love 
thy  friends  ;  do  good  to  them  that  do  good  to 
thee,  and  as  for  them  that  do  evil  to  thee,  try 
thy  best  to  outdo  them  in  it,  and  then  they  will 
respect  thee,  and  fear  thee,  and  know  how  to 
take  thee  and  understand  thee ;  the  other  is  all 
a  mere  made-up  doctrine." 

And  so  later  it  was  with  his  mother  that  he 
was  constantly  joking,  and  on  her  he  learned  to 
practice  his  youthful  wit ;  the  sharper  it  was, 
232 


the  more  she  delighted  in  it.  She  could  not 
command  from  her  children  the  respect  that 
many  mothers  exact,  and  would  not  have 
allowed  it  if  she  had  been  able  to  comprehend 
it.  It  would  have  been  as  foolish  to  her  as  to 
make  one  child  respect  and  obey  another. 

But  now  when  the  boy  came  to  talk  with 
Lyddie  or  his  father  everything  was  different. 
Lyddie  had  taught  him  dances  and  games,  but 
there  was  nothing  exuberant  about  her  joyous 
moods  or  depressing  about  her  despondent  ones. 
Hannah  could  sometimes  cry  by  the  hour,  and 
had  many  a  time  shocked  the  boy  by  wishing 
she  was  dead.  But  Lyddie,  in  joy  or  tears,  was 
placid  and  controlled.  It  was  she  that  gave  the 
boy  his  greatest  insight  into  nature.  She 
taught  him  that  a  rose  was  beautiful,  that  the 
yellow  down  on  a  dove  in  its  nest  was  soft  and 
pretty,  and  that  the  parts  of  a  feather  were 
wonderfully  conjoined.  She  taught  him  to  re 
spect  his  father,  without  telling  him  not  to 
obey  the  instincts  and  caprices  of  his  mother. 
She  led  him  to  see  and  appreciate  the  good 
points  in  his  father's  character. 

"  Thy  father  is  never  angry,  James,"  she  said 
to  him,  "  and  that  is  good  ;  be  sure  it  is  good. 
He  has  principles  and  will  follow  them,  and  be 
sure  that  is  right.  He  is  not  deceived  by  out 
ward  appearances,  and  be  sure  that  is  a  great 
thing.  He  sees  the  beautiful  where  others  see 
233 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

it  not.  Has  tliee  never  seen  him  bring  in  a 
bunch  of  blackberries  hanging  in  their  cluster 
of  greeii  leaves,  or  a  thorn  on  which  a  beetle  has 
been  impaled  by  the  harsh  shrike  ?  James,  be 
like  thy  father.  He  sees  much  farther  than  other 
men,  away  off  into  the  depths  of  nature,  around 
and  through  its  dark  places." 

And  the  boy  had  immediately  thought  again 
of  the  woods  back  of  Lars  Oleson's,  and  of  his 
father  driven  about  by  the  spirit  with  an  ox 
goad.  Yes,  he  had  surely  seen  into  dark  places 
enough.  His  father  and  Lyddie  were  just  alike. 
The  boy  had  a  strange  sort  of  veneration  for 
each  of  them. 

Lyddie  soon  regained  control  of  herself. 
These  tears  were  her  parting  tribute  to  this 
friend  of  her  childhood.  It  was  as  though  she 
had  the  gift  of  the  seer  and  prophetess  and  felt 
soon  the  boy  would  be  forever  separated  from 
her ;  perhaps  she  might  even  become  for  him  an 
object  of  dislike.  But  it  would  not  do  to  give 
the  boy  such  anticipation  of  evil.  She  took  his 
hand  and  petted  it. 

"  I  hope  thee  will  always  think  of  me  as  a 
friend,  James,"  she  said. 

And  just  then  Hannah  came  and  told  her  that 
William  Price  was  down-stairs  and  had  asked  to 
see  her. 

"  William  Olney,  thee  means,"  Lyddie  said, 
as  a  slight  blush  suffused  her  face. 
234 


THE  BETROTHAL 

"  No,  not  William  Olney,  but  William  Price," 
Hannah  replied. 

"  Impossible,"  Lyddie  thought,  but  in  a  mo 
ment  was  calm.  That  was  her  nature.  Her 
thoughts  grew  clear.  "  I  am  coming  soon,"  she 
said.  She  went  before  a  glass,  but  nothing 
needed  readjusting  in  her  hair  or  her  toilet. 

"Lyddie  always  looks  well,"  Hannah  com 
mented  ;  "  she  is  just  like  a  partridge ;  its 
feathers  all  know  their  places  naturally,  and 
never  get  out  of  them.  But  what  can  William 
Price  want  with  her  ?  "  she  thought. 

"  It  is  just  like  him,  though,"  she  said  to  Lyd 
die,  aloud ;  "  he's  heard  of  thy  engagement  to 
William  Olney;  this  is  the  second  time  now 
they've  been  here  on  that  matter.  I  should 
think  he'd  be  ashamed  ever  to  set  foot  in  this 
house  again."  Then  as  Lyddie  was  about  ready 
to  go  down-stairs,  "  I  hope  thee'll  give  it  to  him 
— he  deserves  it ;  don't  be  afraid,  and  don't  let 
him  get  the  better  of  thee ;  don't  think  too  much 
of  thy  engagement.  William  Olney's  dead  in 
love  with  thee,  and  will  never  give  thee  up,  and 
if  he  does  there  are  plenty  of  other  young  men. 
Thee  can  always  stay  with  us  too  and  need  not 
ever  think  thyself  a  charge  on  us.  Let  him  see 
thee's  a  woman  of  spirit.  If  thee  gives  in  now, 
he'll  rule  both  of  you  all  his  life  ;  and  let  him 
understand  that  on  matters  of  religion  the  con 
science,  and  not  tradition,  must  be  thy  guide." 
235 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  Hannah,  thec  is  making  it  very 
hard  for  me,"  Lyddie  said,  "  very  hard."  And 
then  she  broke  away  from  her  and  went  down 
stairs. 

In  Lyddie's  mind  were  the  words,  "  For  it 
wrill  be  given  thee  what  to  say,"  and  surround 
ing  her  had  come  a  great  wave  of  spiritual  exal 
tation.  Here  was  a  worthy  aim  for  her,  a  king 
dom  to  be  conquered.  If  she  could  capture  and 
lay  before  her  husband's  feet  his  father's  heart ; 
if  she  could  win  his  father's  affection !  Like 
the  speaker  when  he  faces  the  multitude,  liko  the 
general  before  he  gives  the  final  order  to  charge 
in  the  battle,  she  felt  herself  sink  into  insignifi 
cance  before  the  greatness  of  her  responsibility. 
She  trembled  like  a  reed.  A  prayer  went  up  in 
her  heart — "  O,  ye  heavenly  powers."  Long  vis 
tas  of  happy  futures  flashed  before  her  in  which 
husband  and  wife,  parents  and  children,  and 
grandchildren,  in  happy  union  lived  a  blessed 
life  on  a  peaceful  earth.  "  Come,  all-conquer 
ing  love,"  she  was  saying  ;  her  spirit  was  just 
ready  to  kindle ;  there  was  a  spiritual  power 
about  her  eyes,  her  breast ;  she  was  Joan  in  her 
prison  watching  the  battle  from  afar  and  aboiit 
to  break  her  chains  and  rush  upon  the  field. 
Never  before  perhaps  had  a  young  girl  been  put 
in  such  a  situation ;  never  before  perhaps  had 
there  been  such  a  girl  as  Lyddie.  She  had 
conquered  Rachel  Price's  good  will  as  with  a 
236 


THE  BETEOTHAL 

wave  of  her  hand.  If  she  had  been  a  spiritual 
medium,  she  would  have  said  "  The  power  was 
about  her  ; "  if  she  had  been  a  Quaker  preacher, 
she  would  have  said  "  The  Holy  Spirit  was  alive 
within  her." 

Perhaps  it  was  her  emotion.  Perhaps  it  was 
God,  whose  essence  is  love.  Perhaps  it  was 
her  irresistible  girlish  simplicity  and  womanly 
sweetness;  the  power  in  her  eyes;  her  gentle 
nature,  her  charm,  her  youth,  the  soul  and  spir 
ituality  of  her  voice,  its  thrill,  as  she  went  up  to 
William  Price  and  spoke  to  him.  Have  you 
ever  listened  to  such  women  ?  If  Lyddie  had 
been  a  calculating  actress  she  would  not  have 
done  a  more  effective  thing  than  she  did  now,  or 
looked  or  spoken  more  to  turn  to  friendliness 
a  hostile  opinion. 

"  It  shall  be  just  as  thee  says,  William  Price ; 
it  shall  never  be  without  thy  consent."  These 
were  her  first  words,  and  then  she  went  on  and 
spoke  to  him ;  she  did  not  know  what  she  said, 
and  did  not  know  how  she  said  it. 

She  always  believed  afterward  it  was  the  di 
vine  spirit  that  came  upon  her.  She  was  not 
wholly  conscious  of  what  she  did  or  said  until, 
finally,  she  felt  herself  weeping,  holding  William 
Price's  hand,  calling  him  father  and  he  calling 
her  daughter.  There  are  wonders  in  the  world 
still ;  miracles  of  change  in  the  human  heart  now 
as  ever.  At  the  time  there  is  a  halo  about  them, 
237 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

a  mysterious  heat  that  envelops  and  fuses  hearts. 
Call  it  mystery,  call  it  divine  love,  call  it  God, 
but  do  not  say  it  is  not,  for  you  will  then  show 
to  the  wise  your  own  ignorance ;  and  within  its 
range  it  can  perform  the  apparently  impossible. 

Would  you  like  to  hear  Hannah's  interpreta 
tion  of  this  piece  of  acting  ?  "  Lyddie,"  she  said, 
"  thee  is  certainly  one  of  the  profoundest  little 
hypocrites  that  ever  lived ;  and,  if  thee  doesn't 
get  a  fortune,  it  is  certainly  not  because  thee  has 
not  worked  for  it.  I  congratulate  thee  on  thy 
success.  William  Olney  may  well  be  proud  of 
his  wife.  I  suppose  thee  will  blossom  forth  now 
soon  as  a  Quaker  preacher,  and  be  put  at  the  head 
of  the  investigating  committee  that  is  trying  us 
for  heresy.  I  have  heard  of  people  who  would 
say  they  believed  in  God,  and  immediately  after 
ward  make  some  mental  reservation,  such  as  '  if 
there  is  a  God ' ;  and  thee  now  will  say,  I  sup 
pose,  thee  believes  in  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  add 
under  thy  breath,  '  if  there  is  any.'  I  wish  thee 
joy  of  thy  conversion  of  thyself  to  thy  father-in- 
law." 

But  nothing  that  Hannah  could  say,  nothing 
that  anyone  could  say,  was  able  to  trouble  Lyd- 
die's  sweet  peace  of  mind  now.  She  kissed  her 
sister  in  spite  of  her — for  Hannah  wras  not  in 
clined  just  now  to  be  particularly  friendly,  and 
had  a  hundred  more  things  on  her  tongue  to 
say.  But  Lyddie  wanted  to  be  alone  awhile  ; 
238 


THE   BETROTHAL 

she  wanted  a  chance  to  think,  to  collect  herself, 
to  recover  from  her  mental  exhaustion ;  and 
Hannah  very  reluctantly  left  her,  after  Lyddie 
had  promised  to  tell  her  more  some  other  time. 

And  so  Lyddie  had  conquered  her  kingdom  ; 
she  believed  she  had  been  helped  to  do  it  by 
something  higher  than  herself.  Oh,  happiness 
unutterable !  She  was  not  then  to  be  a  cause  of 
separation  in  her  husband's  family.  Bachel 
Price,  whom  she  had  long  thought  she  could 
love  as  a  mother,  would  be  her  friend;  and 
William  Price  and  all  of  them.  It  seemed  a 
heavenly  gift ;  unexpected,  unheard  of. 

She  had  been  greatly  startled  when  she  heard 
that  William  Price  was  again  at  the  house  to 
see  her.  There  had  been  no  intimation  of  his 
coming ;  William  Olney  had  not  said  a  word  to 
her  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing.  She  had 
thought  that  Kachel  Price  might  now  possibly 
visit  her ;  but  this  !  It  was  unheard  of,  impos 
sible  ;  and  yet  true. 

She  reviewed  the  whole  event.  She  had  not 
been  unconscious,  though  she  felt  that  she  had 
hardly  been  herself.  She  had  been  carried  out 
of  and  beyond  herself;  her  own  interest  had 
died  away.  She  had  been  the  operator  unflinch 
ingly  carving  his  own  flesh.  It  had  been  a  mo 
ment  of  supreme  self-sacrifice—true,  real,  as  if 
there  had  been  no  selfish  object  to  gain.  From 
those  words,  "  It  shall  be  just  as  thee  says,"  she 
239 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

had  given  up  to  William  Price  completely.  She 
had  put  herself  in  his  place,  and  shown  him  her 
appreciation  of  his  feeling.  She  had  such  sym 
pathy  for  the  broken-spirited  father  that  he  had 
been  touched  at  the  representation  of  himself. 
And  then — no  orator  could  have  done  it  more 
skilfully — she  turned  the  conversation  to  his 
son.  She  spoke  of  his  steadfastness  in  affec 
tion  ;  his  unselfishness  when  she  was  about  to 
marry  another ;  his  obedience  to  high  reason, 
to  which  she  had  finally  yielded  as  to  the  highest 
and  best;  and  then,  in  a  few  words,  she  gave 
him  the  thoughts  that  had  been  gathering  in 
her  mind  about  her  own  religion  ;  a  few  words, 
but  clear.  The  spiritual  world,  which  is  our  in 
timation  of  immortality  and  our  basis  for  relig 
ion,  is  not  to  be  worshipped  except  manifested 
in  a  wise  and  perfect  form.  She  believed  that 
Christ  was  such  manifestation.  She  could  not 
remember  what  words  she  had  spoken,  but  again 
she  had  given  up  her  own  knowledge  of  what 
was  right,  of  what  was  truth,  for  William  Price's 
sake.  Something  had  ccfmpelled  her  to  be  thor 
oughly  and  truly  self-sacrificing.  She  was  not 
thinking  of  conquering,  she  was  thinking  only  of 
forcing  herself  to  yield. 

When  William  Price  had  taken  her  hand  and 

called  her  daughter,  she  had  glanced  up  at  his 

face,  and,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  saw 

something  she  liked  about  it ;  something  Quaker- 

240 


THE   BETEOTHAL 

like,  staid,  and  at  bottom  kind.  For  the  first  time, 
too,  she  saw  a  resemblance  in  him  to  his  son. 
They  had  not  spoken  much.  He  had  kissed  her 
on  the  forehead  and  said  that  Rachel  was  coming 
soon  to  see  her,  that  William  Olney  had  told  them 
of  the  engagement. 

That  announcement  had  been  an  interesting 
event,  too,  but  very  brief.  It  was  another  scene 
in  the  library.  The  son  had  risen  to  go  and  said  : 
"  Father,  as  I  before  told  thee  I  should  do,  I  have 
done  everything  in  my  power  to  persuade  Lydia 
O'Mara  to  consent  to  become  my  wife.  She  has 
at  last,  after  long  thought,  done  so.  I  have 
accepted  thy  former  attitude  as  final,  and  now 
wish  to  ask  thee  what  I  shall  do  regarding  my 
connection  with  thy  business  affairs ;  to  whom 
shall  I  turn  over  my  former  duties  ? "  There 
was  not  a  trace  of  emotion. 

The  father  looked  at  the  young  man,  the  pride 
of  his  whole  life ;  the  copy  of  himself ;  true  to  his 
convictions,  firm,  honest ;  when  necessary,  bold ; 
he  would  make  no  failure  of  life ;  he  would  begin 
for  himself  and  go  straight  forward  by  himself 
to  the  end.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

Some  one,  something  must  yield ;  father  or  son, 
love  or  hate ;  and  how  can  a  house  that  is  divided 
against  itself  stand  ?  How  can  a  man  love  his 
wife  and  hate  his  own  father,  or  a  father  hate  a 
son's  wife  and  love  his  son  ?  Our  souls  must  bo 
full  of  love  or  hate ;  we  must  be  of  the  kingdom  of 
241 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

God  or  of  the  kingdom  of  evil.  Like  a  flash  all 
these  thoughts  passed  through  the  father's  heart. 
Perhaps  just  then  the  transformation,  the  miracle, 
began.  Who  knows  what  may  have  happened  in 
that  same  father's  life,  away  back  in  its  begin 
ning  ;  some  scene  between  another  father  and 
son  whose  remembrance  has  remained  like  a 
sting  ? 

Gradually  some  dark  pictures  that  had  been 
haunting  his  mind  disappeared  ;  some  table  rap- 
pings  and  materializing  cabinets  and  planchette 
boards,  that  had  been  to  him  the  instruments  of 
the  devil,  became  in  his  mind  but  a  few  useless 
and  unavailing  scientific  experiments  ;  failures, 
of  course,  but  not  of  importance  enough  to 
change  the  sweet  stream  of  a  lifetime  to  gall 
and  bitterness.  Gradually  there  emerged  in  his 
mind,  from  among  witches  and  wizards  and 
frauds,  the  form  of  a  young,  respectable,  hard 
working,  zealous,  and  spiritually-minded  Quaker, 
whose  dreams  and  visions  and  spiritual  whip 
pings  and  visitations  indicated  depth  of  mind 
and  character,  his  own  opposition  to  which  came 
to  seem  trivial,  little.  Gradually  the  bacchante 
or  fury,  raging  at  him  from  a  spell  of  madness, 
became  an  emotional  Quaker  woman  of  really 
very  good  qualities,  only  excited  by  a  little  hys 
terical  passion. 

And  William  Price  looked  at  his  son,  rose, 
and  took  his  hand.  He  did  not  go  further  then, 
242 


THE  BETROTHAL 

but  the  young  man  saw  in  his  father's  eyes  a 
light  he  had  not  seen  there  before. 

"  To-morrow,  William  Olney,"  he  said,  "  to 
morrow,  come  to  me  at  this  time  again."  And 
William  Price,  the  father,  that  time  left  the 
room  first. 

That  had  been  the  real  miracle,  and  Lyddie 
had  helped  it  out.  Enoch  Willoughby  had 
been  half  expecting  it,  but  he  had  thought  it 
must  occur  in  some  miraculous  way.  Three 
knocks  might  have  been  heard  at  midnight,  just 
above  the  sleeping  head  of  William  Price ;  and 
then  a  voice  coming  from  the  pillow,  saying, 
"Arise,  William  Price,  go  to  the  house  of 
Enoch  Willoughby,  and  make  thy  peace  with 
his  sister-in-law,  for  she  is  comely  and  is  about 
to  become  thy  son's  wife  in  spite  of  thee  and 
all  the  devils,"  and  then  William  Price  would 
arise  in  a  trance,  and  lo — .  But  why  go  on? 
Perhaps  I  am  simply  making  this  up  in  order 
to  give  more  clearly  the  character  of  the  visions 
that  appeared  to  his  kind  of  imagination ;  and 
let  us  not  be  too  sure,  either,  that  they  might 
not  actually  have  appeared. 

The  next  day,  about  the  same  hour,  namely  at 
eventide,  when  men  go  into  the  libraries  and 
shut  the  door  and  put  on  their  slippers,  it  came 
to  pass  that  William  Oluey  came  to  William 
Price  and  said :  "  Father,  I  am  come  to  hear 
thy  decision." 

243 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

"My  decision,  my  son,"  William  Price  re 
plied,  "  is  that  I  have  been  to  see  Lyddie  O'Mara 
and  I  think  better  of  her.  She  is  comely  and 
modest  and  spiritually  minded.  I  can  no  long 
er  think  hard  of  her  or  of  thee.  I  may  even 
say  I  desire  that  she  become  thy  wife." 

And  then  they  shook  hands — a  pretty  hard 
squeeze,  not  looking  very  squarely  into  each 
other's  faces,  and  William  Price  said  softly  : 
"  Perhaps  thee  had  better  call  mother,  Olney." 
He  did  sometimes  address  him  thus  familiarly. 
Then,  after  his  son  had  gotten  well  out  of  the 
door  into  the  hall,  William  Price  hurriedly  took 
his  handkerchief  out  of  his  coat-tail  pocket  and 
wiped  his  eyes. 

And  now  one  might  think  this  history  was 
pretty  nearly  over.  In  describing  this  last 
scene,  later,  to  Lyddie,  William  Oluey  said 
what  followed  was  very  much  like  a  love-feast. 
After  his  mother  came  in  and  heard  the  good 
news,  they  called  his  sister  Sally,  and  the  two 
women,  especially  his  mother,  had  not  known 
how  to  say  enough  good  things  about  Lyddie. 

"  Thy  ears  must  have  tingled,  Lydia,"  Will 
iam  Olney  said  afterward  in  recounting  it,  and 
then  followed  a  scene  that  probably  might  as 
well  bo  omitted.  What  kind  of  love  scene 
would  one  like  to  be  absent  from  least,  I  won 
der  ?  Certainly  not  that  kind  which  is  begun 
by  touching  a  young  woman's  ear,  and  as  exactly 

244 


THE   BETROTHAL 

this  act  was  what  William  Olney  had  been  guilty 
of  it  scenis  perfectly  idiotic  to  remain  longer  at 
tempting  to  describe  this  scene. 

When  they  got  through  and  came  to  their 
senses  sufficiently  to  talk  in  a  manner  intelli 
gible  to  people  who  were  not  suffering  from  the 
same  malady  as  themselves,  they  found  they 
had  a  good  many  real  things  to  talk  about : — in 
the  first  place,  the  fixing  of  the  wedding  day, 
which  must  be  soon,  this  staid  Quaker  insisted. 
It  might  have  been  rather  hard  for  him  to  find 
an  intelligible  reason  why.  Then,  next,  father 
Price  had  desired,  as  their  house  was  large,  the 
young  people  should  live  with  them,  and  this 
seemed  to  both  of  these  dreamers  a  very  happy 
arrangement.  The  wedding,  too,  must  be  given 
out  in  meeting,  and  they  naturally  wondered 
what  the  Swains  and  Meaders,  the  Aliens  and 
Wootons  and  Faucetts  and  Places  and  Mor 
rows  and  everybody  would  think  and  say  about 
it. 

They  discussed  the  Quaker  marriage  cere 
mony.  Both  of  them  agreed  in  thinking  it  the 
most  beautiful  marriage  ceremony  that  ever  was 
invented. 

"  Does  thee  think  thee  can  learn  it  by  heart, 
Lydia,  so  as  to  stand  up  before  the  whole  meet 
ing-house  full  of  people,  and  say  thy  part  off 
without  a  mistake  ?  " 

Lyddie  felt  very  certain  she  could  do  that  and 
245 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

thought  most  likely  William  Olney  would  make 
the  worst  blunder,  unless  perhaps  his  recent 
committing  to  memory  of  Bible  passages  had 
helped  out  his  memory.  And  so  she  twitted 
him  on  attempting  to  quote  that  long  passage 
from  Mark's  Gospel  not  long  ago.  "  Thee  re 
members,"  she  said — there  was  something  des 
perately  sweet  about  these  ungrammatical  thee's 
— "  I'm  sure  thee  did  not  get  it  right ;  and,  as 
thy  part  to  say  in  the  ceremony  is  longer  than 
mine,  I  am  sure  thee  is  very  likely  not  to  get 
that  right." 

But  William  Olney  thought  the  parts  were 
about  the  same  length,  and  Lyddie  was  sure 
the  man's  part  was  a  little  longer.  The  Disci 
pline  had  to  be  brought  into  requisition ;  Lyddie 
had  to  go  and  hunt  up  the  book. 

But  Lyddie  met  her  sister,  and  Hannah 
saw  she  had  the  Quaker  Discipline  in  her  hand. 
Now  Hannah  had  some  thoughts  in  her  mind 
that  she  could  not  very  well  repress.  WTe  must 
remember  that  she  saw  or  thought  she  saw  how 
things  were  going.  She  was  something  of  a 
seer  too  in  her  way.  Her  imagination  also  had 
been  running  on  ahead.  She  already  saw  Lyd 
die  a  rich  Quaker  preacher,  as  far  separated 
from  her  and  from  her  own  family  as  the  an 
tipodes.  Of  course,  she  could  weep  over  it  too ; 
and  then  again  would  not  mind  tearing  some 
body's  eyes  out  about  it.  She  could  call  Lyddie 
246 


THE  BETROTHAL 

a  little  Quaker  hypocrite,  yet  if  any  one  else  had 
dared  to  call  her  such  a  name,  Hannah  would 
have  risen  in  her  wrath  and  devoured  that  per 
son.  It  is  useless  to  attempt  to  describe  all 
the  circumstances.  We  must  remember  that 
Hannah  had  herself  spoken  in  meeting,  and 
taken  great  credit  to  herself  for  it.  The  oppor 
tunity  of  doing  so  any  more  was  now  gone. 
She  would  be  only  a  despised  spiritual  medium 
if  she  were  anything,  but  Lyddie  would  stand 
in  high  places. 

Hannah  never  repressed  her  words,  and  now 
when  she  saw  Lyddie  with  the  Discipline,  her 
thoughts  were  running  over.  It  only  took  a 
glance  for  Hannah  to  know  what  the  book  was. 
In  a  moment  she  guessed  what  they  had  been 
talking  about.  She  would  have  said  it  was  a 
spirit  inspiration  that  told  her,  though  we  rather 
think  it  was  her  quick  imagination. 

She  came  up  to  Lyddie,  and,  pointing  at  the 
book,  she  began — and,  for  the  moment,  she  was 
a  prophetess,  a  seer,  a  Cassandra — "  I  see,  I 
see,"  she  said ;  "  but  don't  imagine  for  a  mo 
ment  thee  has  conquered  them ;  that  would 
be  deceptive  flattery  to  thyself.  They  will  find 
the  cloven  hoof  in  thee  some  day  and  thee  in 
them.  Thee  is  preparing  for  a  worse  separation 
than  thee  ever  imagined  ;  binding  the  bonds  the 
tighter,  that  they  may  break  with  the  louder 
snap.  They  have  taken  thee  up  and  will  trans- 
247 


ENOCH  WILLOUGHBY 

plant  thee,  but  they  will  shake  every  particle  of 
the  mother  earth  off  thy  roots  and  place  thee  in 
the  driest  of  sterile  soil ;  thy  leaves  shall  wither 
and  shrink  for  lack  of  the  breath  that  used  to 
blow  upon  them,  and  not  one  of  thy  kind  shalt 
thou  see  in  the  whole  region  round  about  thee. 
Farewell,  sweet  sister,  farewell  forever ;  go  to 
thy  new-found  friends  and  learn  gradually  to  lie 
to  the  world  and  even  to  thyself  ;  gather  in  the 
sweet  successes  of  life,  and  turn  thy  back  on  the 
spirit  that  came  to  thee  in  our  humble  home  in 
our  new  and  despised  religion.  No  one  can 
blame  thee.  Live  and  enjoy  it  if  thee  can." 

"  Fie  !  "  Lyddie  cried  out,  "  is  this  the  bless 
ing  thee  would  send  out  with  me  ?  "  And  then 
Hannah  broke  down  and  cried,  and  Lyddie  took 
her  in  her  arms  and  consoled  her.  She  knew  it 
was  only  her  emotion,  the  thought  of  the  part 
ing,  the  trouble  with  the  church ;  and  so  she 
went  on  back  to  William  Olney  with  the  Disci 
pline  in  her  hand. 

We  must  not  forget  here,  while  the  wedding 
is  approaching,  to  chronicle  a  quite  unexpected 
event,  apparently  of  no  importance,  but  one  that 
bore  a  little  fruit  later  on.  It  was  no  more  nor 
less  than  Abijah  Willetts's  moving  South. 

No  one  knew  he  had  been  expecting  to  go. 
He  went  to  the  Reserve,  a  place  that  has  been 
mentioned  before,  and  will  be  heard  of  again. 
He  took  a  new  span  of  horses  with  him.  He 

248 


THE   BETROTHAL 

bought  them  the  day  before,  and  promised  to 
pay  for  them  the  day  after — but  that  was  little 
for  Abijah.  He  was  followed  and  arrested,  and 
would  have  been  brought  back  had  he  not  act 
ually  talked  the  owner  of  the  team  into  letting 
him  go  on.  He  was  such  a  soft-voiced,  gentle- 
faced  old  sinner,  no  one  could  believe  ill  of 
him  when  in  his  presence.  He  actually  talked 
the  owner  into  believing  it  was  a  perfectly  hon 
est  transaction,  that  he  simply  had  not  found  it 
convenient  to  pay  for  the  horses  that  day,  but 
intended  to  remit  the  amount  the  moment  he 
arrived  at  his  destination. 

The  owner  was  mentally  cursing  himself  all 
the  time  he  was  relenting.  "  I  know  I'm  being 
fooled,  cheated,"  he  was  saying  to  himself ;  "that 
he's  sleek  and  rotten  and  soft-voiced  and  hypo 
critical  ;  but  I  can't  help  it ;  he  talks  like  an 
angel,  with  his  good  old  round  face  smiling  out 
at  me  from  among  his  wife  and  children.  Let 
him  go ;  I  know  I'll  never  see  a  cent  of  the 
money  again,  but  damn  the  money,  you  can't 
arrest  a  man  like  that  from  the  bosom  of  his 
family  and  carry  him  off  with  a  religious  halo 
around  his  head  into  imprisonment  and  perpet 
ual  disgrace." 

And  so  he  relented  and  let  him  go ;  and  Abi 
jah  went  on  his  way  rejoicing,  and  never  again 
thought  of  paying  for  the  horses.  He  said  to 
himself,  "  He  couldn't  arrest  me  anyway ;  it  was 
249 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

only  a  breach  of  trust,"  and  was  perfectly  satis 
fied  because  be  was  fulfilling  tbe  letter  of  the 
law. 

Abijah  left  a  wretched  name  behind  him ; 
that  is  one  consolation.  The  wicked  are  pun 
ished  in  the  minds  of  men,  even  if  they  get  no 
punishment  in  reality. 


250 


XXI 

DEVELOPMENTS 

IN  some  respects  Hannah  had  been  perfectly 
right  in  her  prophecy.  William  Price  was  never 
reconciled  to  the  new  doctrine ;  that  would  have 
been  impossible.  But  the  strong  feeling  he  had 
for  his  son,  Lyddie's  influence  on  his  wife, 
Rachel,  and  the  fact  that  Lyddie  belonged  to 
the  church  and  was  not  known  as  a  spiritualist, 
and  moreover  was  not  a  Willoughby,  all  influ 
enced  him.  He  remembered  Enoch  Willongh- 
by's  words  :  "  She  will  become  whatever  her 
husband  is."  That  was  most  likely  true  ;  they 
would  take  her  into  the  family,  surround  her  in 
every  way  with  different  influences  ;  she  would 
become  and  remain  a  good  Friend,  perhaps  a 
Quaker  preacher,  and  that  would  be  all  the  bet 
ter.  It  was  true,  the  family  needed  a  little  touch 
of  spirituality,  a  little  sensitizing  of  the  sympa 
thetic  nerves. 

Such  were  William  Price's  thoughts.  But 
when  ho  came  to  see  Lyddie,  and  she  appeared 
before  him  as  a  young  Saint  Theresa  or  Joan  of 
Arc  in  a  condition  of  spiritual  exaltation,  he  did, 
for  the  time  being,  lose  all  his  early  calculated 
251 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

plans  for  the  future.  He  yielded  uncondition 
ally,  overcome,  as  we  have  shown,  by  a  set  of 
circumstances,  we  hardly  know  what.  It  was  a 
true  overcoming,  a  real  surrender  on  all  sides. 
But  would  it  last  ?  Was  this  only  a  lull  in  that 
storm  we  have  taken  as  a  symbol  of  this  diffi 
culty  ?  Ah  !  that  remains  to  be  seen. 

Now,  if  there  ever  was  a  soul  in  the  world  that 
was  true,  and  wanted  to  be  true  to  itself  and  to 
everyone  around  it,  this  soul  was  to  be  found  in 
the  body  of  Lyddie  O'Mara.  And  yet  she  was 
gradually  placing  herself  in  a  situation  where  it 
was  becoming  very  difficult  indeed  for  her  to  re 
main  true  to  herself  or  anything. 

The  marriage  was  made,  as  all  hindrances  were 
removed.  Lyddie  was  installed  in  the  Price  fam 
ily  ;  the  honeymoon  came  first,  with  its  journey 
to  Providence  and  attendant  diversions.  After 
it  had  come  to  an  end  Lyddie  before  long  pretty 
nearly  took  control  of  the  whole  household. 
She  was  given  so  much  attention,  so  much  def 
erence  was  paid  to  her,  she  was  so  sweetly  rea 
sonable  and  of  such  good  judgment  it  soon 
came  to  seem  as  though  this  family,  that  needed 
nothing  before,  now  had  excess  and  superfluity 
of  good  qualities.  They  attended  the  Quaker 
meeting  regularly ;  a  very  pleasant  intimacy 
arose  gradually  between  Lyddie  and  her  father- 
in-law.  Lyddie  was  fond  of  conversing  on  re 
ligious  matters,  and  had,  for  a  young  woman,  a 

252 


DEVELOPMENTS 

wonderful  insight  into  spiritual  things ;  and  in 
this,  too,  she  ruled  the  family.  She  became  a 
kind  of  oracle  on  all  such  subjects.  Her  quota 
tions  from  Scripture,  which  she  had  mostly  from 
the  remembrance  of  their  constant  repetition  at 
home,  they  never  disputed.  When  she  spoke  in 
meeting,  for  she  did  now  sometimes  do  that,  her 
words  were  looked  upon  as  of  very  great  im 
portance,  and  weighed  and  considered.  Every 
opportunity  was  put  in  her  way  of  making  what 
she  pleased  of  herself. 

When  the  first  grandchild  was  born  in  the 
family  her  situation  was  in  every  way  pleasant. 
Yet  she  had  little  twinges  of  conscience  even 
before  that.  She  remembered  Hannah's  proph 
ecy  and  she  began  to  see  some  indications  of  its 
fulfilment.  She  knew  that  her  sister  reproached 
her  for  not  having  visited  them  on  her  return 
from  the  wedding  journey,  and  she  knew  what 
she  was  saying  in  her  mind  of  her.  We  must 
remember  Lyddie's  relation  in  that  family  had 
been  more  that  of  a  daughter  than  aught  else ; 
now  she  began  to  dread  to  speak  of  visiting  her 
sister.  The  Willoughbys  came  to  be  very  seldom 
mentioned  at  the  Prices,  and  then  less  and  less 
frequently.  Her  position  in  the  family  of  her 
husband  was,  however,  made  pleasanter  and 
pleasanter.  It  seemed  to  be  a  delight  to  these 
people  to  spend  money  for  their  daughter-in- 
law,  and  in  many  matters  in  which  they  would 
253 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

not  have  spent  a  penny  on  themselves  they 
seemed  to  consider  expense  the  proper  thing 
for  Lyddie.  For  instance,  the  Quaker  styles 
were  changing  ;  Avhile  the  elderly  women  still 
adhered  to  their  drab  dresses,  scoop  bonnets, 
and  neckerchiefs,  the  younger  people  had  as 
sumed  a  more  modern  style,  and  Rachel  and 
Sally  Price  delighted  in  the  change  for  Lyd 
die,  though  they  could  not  overcome  their  dis 
like  to  assuming  it  themselves.  So,  too,  her 
newly-found  uncle  and  aunt,  those  Prices  in 
Providence,  had  taken  Lyddie  into  favor,  and 
fairly  overwhelmed  the  new  couple— who  were 
the  only  young  married  people  in  the  whole  Price 
family — with  presents.  Caleb  Price  was  a  man 
of  considerable  wealth  and  no  children,  and 
William  Olney  would  naturally  some  day  fall 
heir  to  his  property.  It  is  needless  to  try  to 
disguise  the  fact  that  all  Lyddie's  surroundings 
tended  to  convince  her  of  the  necessity  of  quiet 
ly  forgetting  her  connection  with  a  certain  fam 
ily  of  religious  dreamers,  who  had  happened  to 
bring  her  up  and  educate  her  and  provide  for 
her  until  her  marriage. 

Still  Lyddie  was  a  woman  of  strength  of 
character  ;  the  struggle  between  spiritual  and 
worldly  things  was  only  just  beginning  in  her, 
and  what  she  might  finally  be  led  to  do  would 
be  very  difficult  to  say.  She  felt  instinctively 
that  it  was  unpleasant  for  everyone  concerned 
254 


DEVELOPMENTS 

for  her  to  make  a  visit  to  the  Willoughbys,  and 
put  off  doing  so  as  long  as  possible.  Another 
fact  she  had  recently  learned:  William.  Price 
had  not  given  his  business  into  the  hands  of 
his  son  or  made  him  active  possessor  of  any 
portion  of  his  estate  in  such  a  way  that  he  might 
not,  if  need  be,  take  the  whole  matter  immedi 
ately  into  his  own  hands  again. 

In  this  Lyddie  felt  there  was  great  injustice. 
Their  manner  of  living  and  their  expenses,  Lyd 
die  knew,  were  far  in  excess  of  what  would  be 
justified  by  their  salary  alone,  or  commission, 
or  whatever  form  of  support  William  Price  had 
allowed  his  son.  If  that  was  all  and  was  to  be 
all,  it  behooved  them  to  live  sparingly  and  to 
begin  already  to  provide  for  their  future.  Every 
day  they  put  off  doing  this  the  more  difficult  it 
would  become  and  the  more  dependent  they 
would  finally  be  upon  William  Price's  good  will 
and  ultimate  action.  Lyddie  did  not  like  world- 
liness  in  any  of  its  forms ;  she  was  independent. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  when  she  consented 
to  this  marriage  that  what  was  essential  in  relig 
ion  was  the  same  in  all  religions,  and,  feeling 
that  she  could  carry  this  essential  something 
with  her,  she  thought  it  made  little  difference  to 
what  church  she  belonged ;  but  she  had  no  idea 
of  slighting  or  scorning  her  own  people  because 
they  were  Spiritualists.  On  the  contrary,  her 
soul  was  full  of  gratitude  to  them.  She  loved 
255 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

her  sister,  though  she  knew  she  was  emotional 
and  liable  to  say  and  do  quick  and  hasty  things, 
and  there  began  to  grow  up  within  her  a  scorn 
and  dislike  of  herself,  to  think  that  she  could 
even  have  the  appearance  of  ingratitude  or  nar 
rowness. 

She  knew  what  her  sister  would  be  saying  of 
her:  "O,  Lyddie?  Yes,  she  is  one  of  those 
bigoted  orthodox;  it  won't  be  long  till  she 
wouldn't  cross  the  street  on  Sunday  to  save  a 
man's  life ;  she'll  soon  be  as  bad  as  old  Abijah 
Willetts.  She  knows  on  which  side  her  bread 
is  buttered."  Lyddie  could  not  endure  these 
thoughts.  They  were  not  just  and  yet  Hannah 
could  hardly  be  blamed  for  entertaining  them. 

Of  one  thing  she  felt  confident — that  was  of  her 
husband's  affection ;  and,  with  her  husband  on 
her  side,  she  could  fight  through  on  any  line  of 
opposition  she  might  think  best  to  choose.  But 
this  was  another  of  her  worst  difficulties.  Re 
sponsibilities  are  our  greatest  masters,  and  in 
one  sense  the  greatest  slave  is  he  who  is  pos 
sessed  of  most  responsibility.  This,  by  'her  very 
nature,  Lyddie  had  assumed.  She  had  always 
been  taught  to  follow  her  reason,  but  she  could 
not  at  times  avoid  reasoning  from  expediency. 

She  would   find  herself  saying :  "  If  it  is  a 

question  of  the  prosperity  of  my  husband  and 

children,  should  I  not  concede  something  ?     Is 

not  the  stake  in  life  greater  than  the  loss  in 

256 


DEVELOPMENTS 

principle  ?  What  is  principle,  anyway  ?  In  one 
man  it  is  a  whim ;  in  another,  a  vision ;  in  an 
other,  an  expression  of  law,  itself  perhaps  fixed 
by  caprice ;  in  another,  a  tradition ;  again,  it  is 
opposition  or  emotion,  a  merest  obstinacy ;  and 
who  can  be  sure  that  his  greatest  principle  is 
anything  but  the  greatest  illusion  ?  Who  can  be 
sure  that  his  religion  is  not  finally  an  excess  of 
emotion  or  mental  exaltation — except  in  the  case 
of  Enoch  Willoughby  and  a  few  like  him?  They 
are  sure  of  themselves,  but  they  too  might  be 
mistaken.  Then  there  remains  the  simple  bal 
ancing  up  of  the  good  of  one's  friends,  and  what 
friend  can  be  nearer,  for  what  friend  should 
one  do  more,  than  for  the  husband  of  one's  heart 
and  the  child  in  one's  bosom  ?" 

And  then,  if  she  thought  of  Enoch  Willoughby, 
she  would  blush  for  very  shame  that  such 
thoughts  could  ever  have  passed  through  her 
mind.  With  him  principle  was  everything,  be 
cause  it  was  eternal;  while  the  world  and  all 
that  there  is  in  it  is  but  ephemeral  as  a  day.  And 
how  sure  such  a  man's  course  must  be.  With 
what  satisfaction  he  must  review  his  acts !  How 
he  can  mark  out  a  line  and  hew  to  it ! 

And  yet,  what  would  be  the  outcome  of  such 
a  character,  uncompromising,  unyielding  ?  His 
so-called  principles  were  sure  to  get  him  into 
trouble,  wore  constantly  doing  so.  And  the  man 
always  welcomed  the  trouble  as  a  test  of  the 
257 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

principle  and  of  his  adherence  to  it.  Born  for  a 
martyr  was  such  a  man !  While  she — she  was 
born  to  wear  silk  dresses  like  Rachel  Price,  to 
discuss  the  height  and  depth  of  Solomon's  temple 
and  such  other  empty  Scriptural  formality  as 
might  be  intelligible  in  a  materialist's  ear. 

These  were  the  kind  of  reasonings  that  passed 
through  Lyddie's  mind  and  were  communicated 
to  her  husband,  for  she  said  they  should  not  be 
divided  even  in  thought.  William  Olney  per 
ceived  all  the  depth  and  greatness  of  this  wom 
an's  soul  and  was  thankful  that  he  had  been 
given  a  wife  of  understanding,  and  not  a  frivolous, 
light-minded  creature. 

"  Lyddie,"  he  said  to  her,  "  I  feel  that  I  am 
just  beginning  rightly  to  fall  in  love  with  thee ; 
thy  reason  and  sweet  intellect  almost  relieve  me 
from  the  need  of  having  any  on  certain  matters. 
I  am  sure  that,  with  thy  understanding,  whatever 
thee  does  will  be  right ;  and  I  am  sure  theo  will 
be  considerate  of  my  people  as  thee  is  of  thy  own, 
and  further  than  that  I  can  ask  nothing." 

So  then  Lyddie  was  left  as  much  in  the  dark 
after  this  searching  conversation  with  her  hus 
band  as  before.  And  with  it  all  she  felt  a  kind 
of  contraction  coming  over  her  soul,  a  shrivelling, 
dryiug-up  process.  At  first  she  had  spoken  in 
meeting,  and  sakept  the  flame  burning  that  had 
been  lighted  within  her.  But  in  some  way 
speaking  was  beginning  to  die  out  in  the  church  ; 
258 


DEVELOPMENTS 

a  number  of  people  had  gone  away.  The  shrink 
ing  process  had  begun  when  the  Willoughbys 
had  absented  themselves  from  the  meeting. 
Enoch  Willoughby's  powerful  and  wretched  emo 
tional  speaking  had  made  all  other  seem  good 
and  easy  by  contrast.  And  then  the  Willettses 
had  gone.  Abijah  Willetts  was  no  dull  light 
spiritually,  though  he  was  an  old  rascal,  and 
many  had  fears  lest,  after  all,  his  religion  might 
be  genuine  ;  it  would  have  been  a  pity  if  so  great 
a  rascal  had  had  genuine  religion,  and  it  did 
seem  like  it  to  hear  him  speak. 

Then  the  younger  women  speakers  had  gradu 
ally  grown  out  of  the  speaking  habit.  Caroline 
Wooton  had  married  and  moved  away ;  Caroline 
Fawcett  had  married  and  become  rather  hard 
and  practical ;  she  could  make  a  motion  in  the 
woman's  part  of  the  meeting,  or  would  work  well 
on  a  committee,  but  she  seemed  to  have  no  in 
spiration  any  longer.  Calinda  Place  had  turned 
to  music — which,  too,  had  lately  been  taken  up  in 
the  meeting — and  expended  her  excess  of  emo 
tion  in  leading  the  singing,  while  Lucinda  Mor 
row  had  gone  into  mission  work,  and  there  was 
no  one  left  but  Mary  Swain,  and  she  very  seldom 
spoke.  The  Swains,  too,  were  talking  of  moving 
to  the  Reserve. 

Lyddie  found,  when  she  yielded  to  the  spirit 
in  meeting,  it  was  now  somewhat  noticeable. 
Everybody  remembered  that  she  had  been  with 


the  spiritualists,  and  the  presence  of  this  hostile 
thought  cast  a  chill  upon  her  and  banished  the 
spirit  like  a  flash  of  light.  Besides,  gradually, 
at  the  Prices  they  came  to  speak  less  frequently 
of  her  performances  of  this  kind,  until  finally 
she  came  to  feel  after  it  at  home  always  a  kind 
of  chilly  void,  through  which  she  had  to  wade 
several  days  before  it  would  warm  up  and  fill. 
Sometimes  she  asked  herself  what  had  become 
of  that  flood  of  spirituality  that  had  been  rained 
down  over  this  whole  settlement.  It  seemed  once 
as  if  everybody,  from  old  Uncle  Allen  down,  had 
been  spiritually  minded ;  the  young  women  all 
potential  Lucretia  Motts,  and  the  young  men  all 
possible  George  Foxes  or  Amos  Hoags. 

But  now  it  was  different.  She  began  to  ask 
herself  what  life  was  for ;  what  was  there  in  it ; 
what  did  it  mean?  It  began  to  seem  dull  and 
stale.  She  had  discussed  the  quality  of  cloth, 
the  style  and  cost  of  garments,  the  arrangement 
of  furniture  and  rooms,  the  harmony  of  colors 
with  Rachel  and  Sally  Price  until  those  sub 
jects  seemed  to  be  pretty  nearly  exhausted.  She 
was  like  an  actress  who  has  been  thrilled  by  ap 
plause,  and  longs  for  the  sensation  again ;  like 
the  old  war-horse  that  idly  hangs  his  head  over 
a  too  full  manger,  and  dreams  of  the  days  when 
he  rushed  into  battle  to  the  blare  of  the  trumpet 
and  the  beat  of  the  drum.  Who  that  has  once 
felt  the  inpouriug  of  the  life-giving  spirit,  whether 
260 


DEVELOPMENTS 

through  pen,  speech,  or  action,  but  remains  all  his 
life  waiting  and  receptive  for  another  influence  ? 

Lyddie  remembered  Hannah's  speaking,  how 
easily  the  spirit  came  upon  that  Eamsdell  wom 
an,  and  how  sure  Enoch  Willoughby  was  of  be 
ing  caught  up  by  the  power.  Once  only  had 
that  power  come  over  Lyddie  with  all-conquering 
force — the  time  she  had  last  spoken  to  William 
Price.  That  seemed  now  to  her  like  the  per 
formance  of  a  miracle ;  and  yet  she  knew  that 
William  Price  had  said  afterward  "  she  seemed 
considerably  excited,  that  was  all."  Excited! 
Was  that  what  he  called  excited?  She  had 
never  been  calmer  in  her  life. 

She  did  not  even  like  to  talk  of  the  Bible  any 
longer,  for  the  only  parts  of  it  that  people  seemed 
to  understand  were  the  commandments  and  the 
law  of  Moses.  "  Merciful  heaven !  "  she  wanted 
to  cry,  "  keep  me  from  forming  harsh  judgments ; 
but  these  people  are  so  narrow,  so  material,  so 
little ;  what  shall  I  be  forced  some  time  to  do?  " 

She  began  to  feel  that  life  was  a  burden.  She 
sometimes  imagined  she  had  turned  her  back 
upon  the  spirit  and  committed  the  unpardon 
able  sin.  She  wondered  what  the  Prices  would 
say  or  do  if  she  should  go  to  a  spiritual  meeting 
and  sit  in  a  circle  and  be  influenced  and  speak. 
They  would  hush  it  up  and  conceal  it  if  possi 
ble.  They  would  think  she  was  mad.  If  the 
fact  was  known  they  would  say  she  was  mad, 
261 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

and,  if  not  for  her  husband,  might  easily  put  her 
into  confinement.  But  Lyddie  had  always  in 
tended  to  do  what  she  thought  was  right ;  had 
never  intended  that  her  own  will,  much  less  her 
own  actions,  should  be  controlled  ;  she  felt  that 
she  ought  to  lead  others  rather  than  be  led  by 
them.  Slowly  and  gradually  she  was  coming  to 
a  conclusion. 


263 


XXII 

THE  VISIT   FROM  LITTLE  JAMES 

THIS  conclusion  was  hastened  by  another 
event ;  nothing  more  important  indeed  than  a 
visit  from  her  nephew,  that  little  James  whom 
she  loved  with  all  an  elder  sister's  affection. 
The  boy  was  quick  and  passionate  like  his 
mother,  but  had  always  been  more  subject  to 
Lyddie's  guidance  than  hers.  Lyddie  had  con 
trolled  and  moderated  his  transports  of  anger 
and  joy  and  childish  emotion,  and  she  had 
thereby  learned  to  love  the  boy  as  we  all  learn 
to  love  those  who  loyally  follow  our  guidance 
and  depend  upon  us. 

The  Prices  felt  instinctively  they  ought  to  be 
most  careful  and  polite  to  this  little  friend  of 
Lyddie's,  and  they  were  so ;  nor  was  there  any 
depreciation  when  they  announced  to  Lyddie 
that  little  Jimmy  Willoughby  was  waiting  to  see 
her. 

We  ought  to  consider  the  early  associations 
of  these  two.  How  many  times  in  the  old  days, 
when  Enoch  had  acted  strangely  under  some  tort 
uring  influence  of  the  spirit,  little  James  and 
Lyddie  had  crept  away  upstairs  together,  and 
263 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

sat  with  their  arms  about  each  other  in  very 
fear  and  trembling  before  the  Lord ;  and  then, 
how  they  had  comforted  each  other,  Lyddie 
keeping  the  boy  calm  and  upholding  his  respect 
for  his  father.  "It  will  soon  pass  off,  Jimmy," 
she  would  say,  and  then  would  point  out  how 
good  that  father  was  and  gentle  and  kind  to  the 
boy  ;  seldom  punishing  or  reproving,  and  never 
scolding ;  and  so  they  had  quieted  each  other 
and  remained  together  in  Lyddie's  room  until 
the  boy  had  fallen  asleep,  or  until  the  influence 
had  departed.  It  is  idle  to  expect  such  old  as 
sociations  as  these  to  be  at  once  destroyed  by  a 
marriage.  It  was  well  the  Prices  did  not  offend 
this  boy.  I  can  imagine  the  gentlest  tigress, 
purring  contentedly  under  the  caresses  of  her 
friendly  domesticators,  out  of  her  sleepy  eyes 
lazily  watching  her  cub,  which  someone  is  calmly 
stroking  down  its  yellow  nose ;  but  let  that  cub 
give  one  single  cry  of  pain,  and  that  tiger  would 
be  Lyddie  if  they  had  offended  the  boy. 

No  one  had  thought  of  offending  him.  Every 
one  knew  it  would  be  better  to  wait  until  the 
grandchild  was  born  ;  the  mother  instincts  then 
that  now  were  concentrated  on  this  little  friend 
would  hold  and  check  her.  They  had  been  kind 
to  Lyddie,  wonderfully  kind ;  though  they  had 
forgotten  and  wanted  to  forget  where  she  came 
from  and  what  she  was.  But  Lyddie  had  not 
forgotten. 

264 


THE    VISIT   FROM   LITTLE  JAMES 

"  Mother  says  you  won't  come  to  see  us  any 
more,  and  so  I  determined  I'd  come  and  see  you 
anyway  just  once,  Tid." 

The  boy  tried  to  laugh  as  he  used  the  old  nick 
name,  and  felt  a  little  shock  as  he  thought  of 
applying  it  to  Lyddie  in  all  these  new  and  won 
derful  surroundings.  But  Lyddie  saw  the  boy's 
lip  quiver  and  knew  all  about  it  in  a  moment. 

"  Thy  mother  is  mistaken,  James,"  she  said, 
"  and  she  misjudges  me  greatly.  I  have  been 
doing  wrong,  though,  and  what  I  knew  was 
wrong,  by  not  going  to  see  you."  And  then  she 
sat  down  by  the  boy  and  did  as  she  had  done  a 
hundred  times  before  ;  she  told  him  everything 
as  if  he  were  entirely  capable  of  understanding, 
as  indeed  he  was. 

"  It  is  a  great  question  of  duty,  James,"  she 
said  at  last.  "  What  ought  I  to  do  ?  " 

The  boy  understood  and  appreciated  the  sit 
uation.  "  You'd  better  give  us  all  up,  Tid,"  he 
said  ;  "  I'm  old  enough  to  know  that  there  is 
nothing  in  it."  That  "  it  "  was  a  bigger  word 
than  it  seemed.  And  then  followed  some  boy 
ish  wisdom.  "  I  know  there  isn't  any  God,"  the 
boy  said  bitterly  and  passionately,  "  or  any 
heaven,  or  any  earth,  except  just  what  you  see  ; 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  spirit,  good  or  bad ; 
we  don't  live  after  we  die,  we  only  rot.  It's  all 
nonsense  and  people's  imagination.  The  only 
sensible  men  in  the  world  are  those  that  believe 
265 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

nothing.  Those  that  believe  in  God  are  slaves 
and  fools  to  all  the  rest.  If  you  can  make  any 
thing  by  staying  here  and  cutting  us  and  forget 
ting  us,  I'd  do  it ;  it's  the  sensible  thing.  Of 
course,  we'll  feel  bad  for  a  little  while,  but 
that's  no  matter,  we'll  get  over  it.  It's  what 
everybody  does  as  far  as  I  can  see,  and  I'm 
going  to  learn  to  do  as  other  people  do." 

And  then  Lyddie  attempted  to  soothe  and 
pacify,  but  it  was  no  longer  easy.  She  had 
already  placed  herself  in  a  position  where  her 
actions  were  liable  to  false  interpretations,  and 
she  had  not  yet  decided.  For  a  long  time  she 
had  been  going  over  the  words  "  He  who 
would  save  his  life  shall  lose  it."  "Life  "  meant 
to  her  the  worldly,  material  life  first,  and  next 
it  meant  that  better  spiritual  life  of  principle, 
which  she  knew,  and  understood,  and  ought  to 
follow.  She  felt  instinctively  that  the  boy  was 
right,  that  to  turn  and  tack  and  catch  the  favor 
ing  breeze  and  run  before  the  storm  was  the 
way  to  make  progress  on  the  ocean  of  life,  while 
over  that  other  ocean  of  eternity  there  was  but 
one  straight  course  marked  out  by  the  conscience 
and  leading  to  the  very  throne  of  the  Most 
High. 

She  was  again  for  a  moment  a  seer ;  flashes 

of  inward  light  revealed  to  her  vistas   of   the 

future.     She  knew  that  at  the  end  of  one  of 

these  must  be  a  nameless  grave,  hovered  over 

266 


THE   VISIT   FROM   LITTLE  JAMES 

and  guarded  by  an  immortal  spirit  of  lasting 
memory  and  imperishable  glory.  At  the  end  of 
the  other  was  a  deceptive  monument  recording 
in  lying  characters  the  virtuous  deeds  of  a 
worldly  and  selfish  woman.  Should  she  have 
respect  to  the  world,  or  should  she  only  be  true 
to  herself?  She  could  not  decide  ;  she  must 
have  time. 

She  took  the  boy  up  to  her  rooms,  her  own  part 
of  the  house.  She  interested  him  in  every  way 
she  could  think  of  ;  she  kept  him  talking.  She 
had  it  in  mind  to  have  the  carriage  brought 
round  and  take  him  back  with  her.  "  "What 
shall  it  profit  a  man  to  gain  the  whole  world 
and  lose  his  OAvn  soul."  These  words  would 
constantly  come  to  her,  but  the  boy  went  home 
alone. 

He  had  not  had  a  good  visit  with  Aunt  Tid ; 
she  had  not  talked  to  him  as  she  used  to  do ; 
she  had  been  a  little  cool  and  stiff. 

Hannah  said  now  she  was  indeed  ready  to 
go  to  another  country.  She  had  no  sister  liv 
ing  any  longer  in  this.  And  before  Lyddie 
had  a  chance  to  redeem  herself  her  people  had 
gone. 

There  comes  in  here  also  the  momentous  love 
story  of  two  children,  of  little  James  and  Susie 
Beatty.  It  is  not  necessary  to  laugh  at  them 
because  they  were  young ;  they  could  be  just  as 
sensibly  foolish  and  foolishly  sensible ;  just  as 
267 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

pathetic  and  woe-begone ;  quarrel  and  make  up 
and  dream  about  one  another  night  and  day, 
be  thrilled  by  a  touch  of  the  hand  or  sigh  at  the 
thought  of  blue  eyes  or  red  lips  or  wavy  hair, 
just  as  well  as  older  people. 

In  fact,  no  one,  old  or  young,  could  be  more 
desperately  in  love  than  little  Jiumiie  was  with 
Susan  Beatty.  She  was  the  adopted  daughter 
of  Doc  Beatty,  who  has  been  mentioned  before, 
and  soon  concentrated  upon  herself  all  the  boy's 
affection  for  the  whole  family,  dogs,  cats,  musical 
instruments,  and  all.  Even  that  medicinal  odor, 
that  brought  up  the  whole  paradise  of  the  doc 
tor's  house,  now  settled  in  his  fancy  around 
Susie,  and  out  of  it  seemed  to  grow  the  most 
charming  face  of  the  most  beautiful  girl,  and 
yet  he  knew  distinctly  when  and  where  and  how 
the  tender  passion  first  came  into  his  heart. 

It  was  while  the  'Gene  worship  still  glowed 
high  on  the  altar  of  his  youthful  affection,  and 
the  doctor's  old  horse  and  Newfoundland  clog 
still  shared  in  it,  that  it  all  came  about, 
namely  in  the  following  fashion :  The  doctor 
had  taken  Susie  with  him  to  visit  his  patients, 
and  on  the  rounds  had  stopped  at  the  Wil- 
loughbys',  and  there  had  left  the  girl  while  he 
made  a  side  trip  to  a  place  to  which  he  did  not 
wish  her  to  accompany  him.  It  was  growing 
dark  ;  the  doctor  was  detained  ;  the  girl  became 
afraid.  The  doctor  was  not  a  man  to  take 
268 


THE  VISIT  FROM   LITTLE  JAMES 

spirits  out  of  the  body  very  much  into  his  cal 
culations  ;  it  is  doubtful  if  he  considered  those 
in  it  to  any  great  extent.  The  idea  that  Susie 
should  become  afraid  of  spirits  at  the  Willough- 
bys',  and  begin  to  cry,  never  entered  his  mind ; 
but  she  did.  The  girl  was  left  alone  in  the 
sitting-room,  and  at  first  amused  herself  by 
looking  at  the  old  photograph  album  ;  then  she 
got  up  and  touched  the  keys  of  the  melodeon, 
and  went  over  to  the  window  and  looked  out. 
The  house  was  on  the  edge  of  the  woods  ;  it 
was  already  growing  dark ;  the  wind  was  sigh 
ing  through  the  trees.  The  girl  was  not  used 
to  the  country ;  it  looked  lonely  and  desolate 
outside.  She  wondered  what  the  people  were 
doing.  Why  did  not  some  one  come  and  sit 
with  her  ?  Would  the  doctor  be  away  long  ? 
She  missed  everything  that  she  was  used  to, 
and  suddenly — oh  why  did  she  think  of  that — 
the  Willoughbys  were  spiritualists ! 

Instantly  a  great  terror  seized  upon  the  girl ; 
she  looked  and  expected  to  see  the  room  full  of 
ghosts ;  she  did  not  dare  move  a  foot  or  finger, 
or  stir  from  the  room  or  even  from  the  window. 
She  was  paralyzed  from  the  fear  of  her  own 
imagination.  Suddenly  one  of  her  knees  grew 
weak  and  began  to  tremble.  She  must  sit 
down.  But  to  sit  down  in  that  dark  room,  in 
that  place — the  thought  of  it  was  too  much  for 
her.  She  heard  a  noise ;  she  gave  a  stifled 
209 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

scream,  covered  her  face,  and  sank  on  a  sofa  in 
the  corner  and  burst  out  crying. 

"  Why,  Susie,  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 

It  was  Hannah  who  was  coming  into  the 
room  to  stay  with  her.  She  had  been  thinking 
the  little  girl  might  be  afraid  or  lonesome,  and 
made*  haste  to  come  in  as  soon  as  she  could. 
But  when  the  girl  saw  her  she  was  frightened 
the  more.  Whether  it  was  the  thought  of  the 
spirits,  or  Hannah's  tall  form,  or  the  fact  that  she 
was  a  stranger,  or  whatever  it  was,  Hannah  saw 
the  girl  was  in  danger  of  a  fit  of  hysterics ;  and 
remembering  that  James  was  acquainted  with 
the  doctor's  family,  and  might  be  able  to  quiet 
her,  she  rushed  out  and  called  him  to  come  in. 

As  soon  as  the  boy  appeared,  Susie  recog 
nized  a  familiar  face.  The  spirits  fled  away 
like  a  flash. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  afraid,"  she  said. 

"Why,  what  are  you  afraid  of,"  the  boy 
asked. 

"I  don't  know,  I  don't  know;  I'm  just 
afraid,"  the  girl  said ;  and  then  she  begged  him 
not  to  go  away  until  the  doctor  came  back. 
The  boy  reassured  her  and  took  the  photograph 
album  over  to  show  her  the  pictures  of  his  aunts 
and  cousins.  He  sat  down  by  her  on  the  sofa, 
and  Susie  took  hold  of  his  arm  and  held  him 
close,  and  then  they  sat  and  talked ;  and  as 
they  talked  it  grew  darker  outside.  The  doctor 
270 


THE  VISIT   FROM   LITTLE  JAMES 

was  still  delayed.  Finally  the  girl  slipped  her 
hand  into  the  boy's  hand  and  then  took  hold 
of  it  and  pressed  it.  The  boy  returned  the 
pressure. 

"And  you  were  crying  because  you  were 
afraid  right  here  in  our  house,"  he  said  to  her. 

"I  was  so  foolish,  so  foolish,"  she  replied; 
"but  I  am  not  afraid  any  longer.  I  was  not 
afraid  any  longer  after  you  came,"  and  just  then 
the  doctor  drove  up. 

No  one  mentioned  what  had  happened.  The 
doctor  was  in  haste  and  drove  off  soon ;  but 
now  the  young  lovers  had  become  acquainted. 

And  then  there  had  followed  that  delightful 
period  of  young  love,  that  is  altogether  too  good 
to  describe,  when  the  touch  of  a  finger  would 
be  remembered  a  week,  and  a  look  cast  at  some 
one  else  would  send  the  heart  sinking  down  to 
unfathomable  depths  of  jealous  pain.  Then 
might  perhaps  come  the  sweet  intoxication  of 
a  few  minutes  together ;  then  a  fierce  fight 
with  Jim  Harris,  because  he  said  that  "Susie 
was  a  flirt  and  coquette  and  didn't  care  for 
anybody  as  far  away  as  you  could  see  him  in 
the  woods." 

And  then  had  come  finally  the  breaking  off ; 
oh,  woe,  indeed !  And  in  this  case  the  spirits 
did  it  too,  for  the  child  lovers  quarrelled  about 
religion,  a  deep,  heavy,  eternal  quarrel.  Two 
hearts  that  beat  as  one  were  now  henceforth 
271 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

to  beat  as  two;  and  words  were  passed  back 
and  forth ;  deep,  dreadful  words  like  these  : 

"  I  think  a  Hixite  is  as  good  as  a  Spiritualist 
any  day  of  the  week,"  and  vice  versa.  And 
now  how  they  hated  one  another ! 

"  That  little  flirt  of  a  Susie  "  and  "  That  little 
stupid  of  a  Jim ! "  So  that  little  James  was 
quite  ready  to  go  to  the  Reserve  along  with  the 
rest  of  his  people. 


272 


XXIII 

A  QUESTION  OF  CONSCIENCE 

THERE  succeeded  a  time  when  Lyddie,  too, 
looked  into  the  depths.  Lyddie  now  passed 
through  a  period  like  that  of  a  man  distracted 
with  the  pangs  of  misprised  love.  Of  course, 
her  trouble  was  in  the  imagination,  but  it  was 
none  the  less  real  for  all  that.  There  is  no 
doubt  Lyddie  felt  like  one  who  had  cursed  God 
and  was  beginning  to  wither  away  and  die. 
Everyone  noticed  that  there  was  something  the 
matter  with  her,  but  no  one  could  tell  what  it 
was.  She  had  no  interest  in  anything  about 
her.  She  passed  sleepless  nights  ;  she  was  often 
distraught ;  she  sought  solitude  as  if  it  were  her 
only  refuge.  She  actually  came  to  fear  to  be 
with  the  people  about  her  lest  she  might  say  or 
do  something  amiss.  She  shuddered  often  at  her 
imagination,  and  forcibly  brought  herself  back 
to  the  world  around  her.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  the  effect  of  the  strange  teachings  and  theo 
ries  of  Enoch  Willoughby  had  much  to  do  with 
her  condition.  She  felt  that  she  had  shut  out 
from  herself  the  spirit  world,  and  from  base 
motives ;  that  she  had  been  ashamed  to  take  up 
273 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

and  confess  before  her  husband's  people  her 
greatest  benefactor ;  the  spirit  that  had  con 
quered  a  kingdom  for  her  was  not  to  be  allowed  a 
dwelling-place  in  that  kingdom.  She  hated  her 
self.  She  felt  all  the  gnawiugs  of  remorse  ;  she 
felt  hate  springing  up  in  her  soul  against  every 
one  and  bitterness  that  turned  her  lip  to  sar 
casm  and  her  voice  to  acidity.  She  knew  she 
was  in  danger ;  she  felt  that  her  love  for  her 
husband  had  left  her  heart ;  she  almost  hated 
him.  She  lay  by  his  side  at  times,  on  awaking 
in  the  morning,  and  thought  of  him  with  repug 
nance  as  a  piece  of  cold,  dead  flesh  lying  beside 
her. 

"  Something  is  the  matter  with  Lyddie  Price," 
everybody  said.  She  became  indifferent  to  how 
she  lived,  to  how  she  was  clothed,  to  what  she 
ate.  The  people  in  the  house  became  a  little 
afraid  of  her.  She  would  not  go  to  the  Quaker 
meeting  or  elsewhere.  The  Prices  said  as  little 
as  possible  about  her,  but  she  was  talked  about 
in  the  neighborhood.  She  grew  thin  and  pale, 
with  great  rings  under  her  eyes.  Once,  before 
the  Willoughbys  left,  her  young  brothel's  came 
to  see  her ;  they  had  heard  she  was  not  well. 
But  she  did  not  care  to  see  them.  And  yet,  all 
this  time  there  was  the  most  perfect  understand 
ing  between  herself  and  her  husband.  She  told 
him  her  feeling,  her  inward  experiences,  even 
her  hatred  of  him,  her  imaginings  of  his  soul- 
274 


A  QUESTION  OF   CONSCIENCE 

less  materialism,  of  her  thoughts  of  suicide.  But 
always  she  would  say,  "  I  shall  get  over  it ;  it  is 
the  spirit  working  in  me.  I  do  not  know  what 
it  is  going  to  do,  or  how  or  when,  but  it  is  lead 
ing  me  somewhere  through  a  vast  amount  of 
bitter  experience,  and  it  may  be  for  my  own 
good.  I  shall  get  over  it,  and  whatever  it 
counsels  me  to  do  I  shall  have  to  do." 

And  then  she  asked  her  husband  if  he  re 
membered  what  she  had  said  to  him  long  ago, 
before  they  were  married,  about  her  being  com 
pelled  to  get  up  on  a  cold  morning  and  drive  off 
miles  into  the  country  on  some  foolish  errand. 

William  Olney  remembered  and  was  ready 
now,  as  he  had  ever  been,  to  make  himself  the 
willing  slave  of  Lyddie's  spirit.  And  so  the 
poor  woman  worked  with  herself  and  fought  the 
devil  and  shame  and  the  world  and  the  spirit, 
but  could  get  no  rest  and  no  light,  until  she  be 
gan  to  be  afraid  of  herself,  afraid  that  in  her 
confusion  she  might  not  retain  the  thread  of 
sanity.  Her  prayers  were  pitiful  in  the  ex 
treme. 

"  She's  going  like  her  sister  Ruth  in  Ohio," 
some  said,  "  and  will  be  a  stupid  crone  in  her 
old  age,  to  sit  senselessly  by  the  fire  and  intone 
aloud  Pinneo's  Grammar  and  Hostetter's  Alma 
nac." 

Others  said :  "  She  has  the  excitable  nature 
of  her  sister  Hannah  and  it  has  gone  in  on  her." 
275 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

"It  is  her  condition,"  still  others  said,  "just 
at  this  time." 

"  It  is  religion  wonting  upon  her,"  said  Mary 
Swain. 

Others  said  openly  :  "  The  woman  is  losing 
her  mind  and  will  be  in  an  insane  asylum  before 
many  months." 

And  poor  Lyddie  felt  an  oppression  upon  her 
that  she  could  not  bear.  It  was  like  a  physical 
ailment.  She  could  not  sleep.  She  would  have 
the  impulse  to  leap  from  the  upper  window  and 
crush  herself  upon  the  pavement.  At  meals 
when  sitting  under  William  Price's  silent  bless 
ing  she  could  hardly  avoid  shouting  out.  But 
this  is  enough  to  show  her  condition.  What  was 
the  remedy? 

It  suddenly  flashed  upon  her  she  must  go 
back.  Her  own  people  were  gone,  but  there 
were  others.  There  were  those  two  women, 
Susan  and  P'lene.  She  began  to  think  more 
and  more  about  them.  Perhaps  it  was  not  true 
that  all  religions  are  essentially  the  same.  What 
had  come  to  her  had  come  to  her  as  spiritual 
ism,  and  she  must  acknowledge  it  as  that.  It 
was  Enoch  Willoughby's  vision  worked  over 
again  in  another  form.  Were  we  after  all  only 
the  instruments  of  something  higher?  It  all 
cleared  up  to  her  now.  She  felt  confident  that 
that  was  what  was  wanted  of  her.  She  would 
obey.  She  would  do  everything  in  her  power, 
276 


A   QUESTION   OF   CONSCIENCE- 

and  no  fear  or  shame  should  keep  her  from  it. 
She  believed  her  husband  would  not  lose  faith 
in  her,  and  there  returned  immediately  into  her 
heart  a  great  wave  of  kindly  feeling.  She  would 
no  longer  be  a  hypocrite.  She  could  now  re 
spect  herself  and  love  the  world  and  all  in  it. 
She  began  to  feel  better  in  every  way. 

When  William  Olney  came  home  that  day  the 
clouds  had  gone.  He  asked  her  what  had 
changed  her. 

"  Thee's  so  like  thyself  I  hardly  know  thee," 
he  said  with  pleasing  paradox,  and  Lyddie  told 
him  of  her  "  opening,"  her  "  inspiration."  She 
must  go  back,  she  said,  even  if  it  was  the  cause 
of  their  being  disinherited. 

Then  AVilliam  Olney  replied  :  "  I  have  long 
thought  there  might  be  something  of  that  kind 
the  matter  with  thee  ;  you  are  all  strange  people, 
unlike  others,  and  I  do  not  understand  you  at  all ; 
but  I  have  always  thought  thee  was  much  like 
thy  brother-in-law,  Enoch  Willoughby,  whom  I 
respect  and  like  in  many  ways ;  and  though  I 
think  we  should  be  careful  not  to  offend  my  peo 
ple,  yet  I  have  married  thee.  I  love  thee,  Lyd 
die;  I  love  every  little  thing  about  thee,  even 
to  thy  most  foolish  fancies.  We  are  young  and 
strong,  life  is  open  before  us,  we  will  not  be 
slaves  to  the  prospect  of  an  inheritance.  Tell  me 
what  thy  spirit  says  for  me  to  do,  Lydia,  and  I 
will  do  it  even  to  the  half  of  my  kingdom." 
277 


ENOCH  •  WILLOUGHBY 

And  Lyddie  replied  in  the  same  spirit  of 
humor  and  sadness. 

"  I  am  very  much  afraid,  William  Olney,  it 
will  be  even  to  the  whole  of  thy  kingdom,"  she 
said,  "for  I  am  sure  thy  father  will  disinherit 
us  ;  but  I  thank  thee  for  being  the  best  and 
truest  husband  that  ever  lived." 

Lyddie's  conscience  had  been  troubling  her. 
She  thought  she  had  done  wrong,  and  the  more 
she  thought  about  it,  the  more  hateful  her  of 
fence  seemed.  Her  imaginative  mind  ran  through 
the  future  in  a  thousand  directions ;  but  however 
she  looked  at  it  she  could  see  no  relief  for  her 
self,  no  escape  from  her  false  position,  except  by 
what  she  had  called  "  going  back."  She  had 
begun  to  feel  her  position  first  when  the  gradual 
breaking  up  of  her  connection  with  the  Willough- 
bys  began ;  then  when  she  had  been  visited  by 
little  James.  After  all,  she  did  not  believe  it 
was  the  spirit  driving  her ;  it  was  herself.  Lyd 
die  had  no  great  faith  in  any  mission  of  hers ; 
she  was  not  called  in  any  way  as  Enoch 
Willoughby  had  been,  except  to  do  right,  to 
be  true  to  herself.  The  moment  she  felt  she 
was  not  time  to  herself  she  became  miserable ; 
while  the  moment  she  turned  as  her  conscience 
pointed  she  became  satisfied  with  herself  and 
happy. 

"  Very  well,  Lyddie,"  William  Olney  said,  at 
the  close  of  their  conversation,  "  shall  we  pro- 
278 


A  QUESTION  OF  CONSCIENCE 

claim  it  from  the  housetops,  '  Lydia  Price  has 
gone  over  to  the  spiritualists  ?  ' 

"  Nay,  do  not  jest,"  Lyddie  said  ;  "  it  is  very 
sad." 

"  Yes,  Lyddie,  it  probably  is,"  William  Olney 
replied,  "and  I  am  not  much  given  to  seeing  the 
humorous  side  of  things,  but  I  cannot  avoid  smil 
ing  when  I  think  of  certain  phases  of  thy  situa 
tion  ;  how  anxious  thee  is  to  make  a  martyr  of 
thyself,  how  thee  would  like  to  have  the  church 
try  thee  for  heresy,  how  thee  would  like  to  have 
my  father  disinherit  us,  and  all  to  satisfy  thy 
conscience." 

But  Lyddie  checked  him. 

"  I  am  sure,"  she  said,  "  thy  father  has  al 
ready  begun  to  cast  us  out  of  his  heart ;  and 
only  to  consider  that  side  of  it  is  very  sad.  I 
have  learned  to  like  thy  father,  almost  to  love 
him  as  a  daughter.  He  is  a  strong  nature,  of  a 
certain  kind  that  attracts  me.  There  is  some 
thing  about  him  that  is  as  persistent  and  con 
stant  as  about  Enoch  Willoughby's  visions.  I 
can  see  plainly  he  will  never  yield,  as  he  has 
never  really  yielded.  Do  not  think  for  a  mo 
ment  I  am  considering  our  relation  to  his  prop 
erty.  I  know  thee  will  not  think  me  sordid  or 
mercenary,  but  look  at  the  man  himself ;  con 
sider  his  nature,  his  training,  and  his  way  of 
looking  at  things,  and  is  there  nothing  pathetic 
to  thee  in  the  thought  ?  He  will  bid  us  good- 
279 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

by  as  lie  would  if  he  saw  us  going  down  into 
destruction  and  himself  incapable  of  lending  a 
helping  hand.  And  yet,"  she  continued,  "  I  feel 
that  I  have  to  do  it  or  die,  not  a  physical,  but 
what  is  worse  than  that,  a  spiritual,  death.  I 
cannot  help  feeling  that  I  am  like  that  Simon 
who  offered  a  price  for  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  I  must  put  myself  in  a  different  situa 
tion,  or  my  life  will  be  worth  nothing." 

"  Very  well,"  William  Olney  said,  "  shall  I 
withdraw  from  my  father's  business,  or  shall  I 
wait  till  the  effect  of  thy  action  leads  him  to  in 
vite  me  to  do  so  ?  Can  thee  not  manage  to  sat 
isfy  thy  conscience  by  some  other  subterfuge  ? 
Can  thee  not  let  it  be  known  among  some  of  thy 
friends  that  thee  has  changed  thy  belief,  and  still 
go  to  meeting  occasionally?  Go  to  the  other 
meetings,  but  not  too  openly.  Remember  I  am 
not  advising  thee  to  do  this,  but  simply  suggest 
ing  a  course  that  would  not  be  wrong  for  me, 
for  to  me  it  would  make  no  difference  what  I  was 
called  or  what  I  am  as  far  as  religion  is  con 
cerned,  as  I  once  before  told  thee ;  and  I  thought 
it  was  pretty  much  the  same  with  thee.  It  does 
not  seem  to  me  wise  to  sacrifice  all  our  business 
prospects  for  an  over-nice  question  of  conscience, 
neither  did  it  seem  wise  from  a  mere  worldly 
stand-point  to  sacrifice  such  prospects,  as  I  sup 
posed  I  should  have  to  do  when  about  to  make 
thee  my  wife.  But  we  do  not  always  follow  the 
280 


A  QUESTION  OF   CONSCIENCE 

counsel  of  worldly  wisdom;  and,  as  I  did  not 
follow  it  then,  so  I  shall  not  follow  it  now. 
Spare  my  father's  feelings  all  thee  can,  but  be 
come  and  be  as  for  thy  conscience  whatever  thee 
likes." 

And  so  Lyddie  Price,  already  a  believer  in  the 
new  doctrine,  began  openly  to  speak  about  it. 
AYilliam  Price  said  nothing,  but  the  intimacy 
that  had  sprung  up  between  him  and  his  daugh 
ter-in-law  was  gradually  dropped.  There  was 
no  argument  attempted,  no  effort  at  conversion ; 
the  subject  was  simply  avoided. 

A  gradual  coolness  was  rising  also  between 
William  Olney  and  his  father,  and  the  poor  old 
gentleman  suffered  horribly. 

"  They  are  lost,  they  are  lost,"  he  often  said 
to  himself,  "  and  they  will  be  the  cause  of  lead 
ing  many  astray,  for  their  influence  will  be  great 
among  the  young  people." 

He  withdrew  more  and  more  into  himself. 
He  would  not,  must  not,  countenance  them. 
The  thought  that  their  bad  influence  came  large 
ly  from  their  connection  with  him.  and  his  wealth 
troubled  him.  He  wished  he  did  not  possess 
anything;  that  he  might  lose  what  he  possessed. 
He  could  not  break  with  his  son  and  still  enjoy 
prosperity  himself,  and  yet  perhaps  he  ought  to 
break  Avith  him.  The  old  gentleman  was  grow 
ing  palo  and  thin  over  his  mental  distress,  and 
yet,  as  Enoch  "Willoughby  would  have  said, 
281 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

"  There  wasn't  very  much  the  matter ;  those  peo 
ple  only  needed  to  know  one  another  better,  to 
talk  about  things  and  reason  about  them,  and 
come  to  an  understanding." 

"  What  Lyddie  needs,"  Hannah  most  likely 
would  have  said,  "  is  another  good  attack  of 
'  spiritual  influence ' ;  let  her  call  up  the  spirits 
and  fly  at  old  William  Price  again  and  that 
pretty  soon,  or  she  will  lose  all  she  has  gained, 
and  may  not  get  the  old  Quaker's  money  after 
all." 

"  Oh,  if  he  had  no  money,"  Lyddie  said  over 
and  over,  "  and  no  friends  or  relations  but  us, 
and  was  in  affliction  and  grief  and  we  could  com 
fort  him,  he  should  never  find  son  or  daughter 
kinder." 

Old  William  Price  felt  the  pull  on  his  affection, 
but  turned  resolutely  away.  How  we  can  hate 
where  we  have  once  loved  !  For  a  long  time  he 
shut  his  eyes  to  the  fact  that  Rachel  was  fond  of 
Lyddie,  fonder  far  than  of  her  own  daughter. 
That  was  another  blow  to  him.  He  would  come 
home  and  look  about  for  "  mother,"  and  ask  for 
her,  only  to  be  told  "  she  was  up  in  Lyddie's 
room."  "  In  Lyddie's  room  " — that  would  be 
enough ;  he  would  go  to  the  library  and  sit 
down  to  his  solitary  reading  of  Millman's  Jour 
nal  or  George  Fox's  life,  or  the  newspaper.  If 
Lyddie  heard  him  coming  she  would  suggest  to 
Rachel,  "  There  comes  father.  Make  haste,  and 
282 


A  QUESTION   OF  CONSCIENCE 

don't  let  liini  find  thee  with  me  or  the  house 
empty,"  and  in  every  way  she  would  be  careful 
to  soften  the  harsh  feeling  that  was  congealing 
between  them,  and  she  and  Rachel  Price  talked 
about  it  and  understood  each  other. 

Lyddie  went  openly  to  several  spiritual  meet 
ings,  and  her  husband  went  with  her.  She  had 
to  go. 

"  It  is  not  religion  with  me,"  she  said,  "  it  is 
conscience." 

Again  and  again  she  thought  of  the  "  sins  of 
the  father  being  visited  upon  the  children  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation."  Eeligion  does  not 
by  any  means  consist  entirely  of  essential  parts ; 
two-thirds  of  it  at  least  are  in  outward,  ines 
sential  things.  She  felt  the  baseness  of  her 
situation.  She  felt  at  times  even  William  Price 
might  accuse  her,  with  some  show  of  reason,  of 
hypocrisy.  He  might  say  she  had  lied  to  him 
and  schemed  to  marry  into  the  family  and  pro 
vide  for  herself  at  the  expense  of  her  conscience. 
What  would  she  not  do  to  avoid  such  imputa 
tion? 

One  day  she  had  been  thinking  this  side  of  it 
over  when  a  woman  called  at  the  house  and  asked 
for  Mrs.  Price.  It  was  that  Susan  Eamsdell 
of  whom  we  have  before  spoken.  The  servant 
did  not  know  her,  and  the  woman  did  not  seem 
to  know  just  what  to  say  when  she  was  asked 
which  Mrs.  Price  she  meant.  It  happened  that 
283 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

William  Price  was  called  to  the  door  to  speak 
to  her  in  explanation  and  Lyddie  heard  the  con 
versation  from  upstairs.  The  woman  seemed  to 
be  unable  to  make  herself  clear,  until  finally,  by 
a  lucky  thought,  she  said  it  was  "  the  spiritual 
ist  woman^"  whom  she  wished  to  see. 

Then  Lyddie  could  hear  the  tone  of  William 
Price's  voice,  suddenly  and  entirely  changed. 

"  There  is  no  spiritualist  woman  living  here," 
he  said ;  "  I  advise  thee  to  seek  lower  down." 

Just  what  he  meant  by  the  words  "lower 
down  "  the  woman  plainly  did  not  at  first  un 
derstand,  for  she  stood  a  moment  looking  up 
and  down  the  street.  When  she  looked  around 
again,  the  door  had  closed  behind  her  and  she 
slowly  retreated. 

Lyddie  had  heard  the  whole  conversation. 
She  understood  well  those  last  words,  and  knew 
they  were  meant  for  her  ears  rather  than  for 
those  of  the  woman  outside,  and  yet  Lyddie 
was  too  good  and  charitable  to  become  angry. 
She  did  have  determination,  however,  and  a 
conscience  quick  to  respond.  She  immediately 
went  down  stairs,  past  William  Price,  even  ask 
ing  him  to  excuse  her  as  she  brushed  against 
him  in  the  door,  and  spoke  to  the  woman  out 
side  ;  she  could  be  plainly  heard  both  within 
and  without  the  house. 

"  They  were  mistaken  in  answering  you,"  she 
said,  "  there  is  a  spiritualist  woman  living  here. 
284 


A  QUESTION   OF  CONSCIENCE 

I  am  she.     Is  there  anything  ?     Will  you  come 
in.     Oh,  it  is  Susan  Ramsdell." 

For  at  that  moment  she  recognized  her,  and 
then  she  urged  her  and  the  woman  came  in. 


285 


XXIY 

SOME   SEPARATIONS 

THIS  trivial  incident  brought  about  the  rupt 
ure.  Lyddie  could  hardly  be  blamed  for  it. 
She  had  already  so  much  on  her  conscience  she 
felt  she  could  not  have  endured  another  period 
of  self-reproach.  It  became  plain  that  the  fam 
ilies  must  separate.  Had  it  better  be  before 
or  after  that  coming  event  in  anticipation  of 
which  she  and  Rachel  Price  were  spending  so 
many  delightful  hours  together?  It  had  per 
haps  better  be  soon.  She  was  not  likely  to 
have  another  such  visit,  it  is  true,  for  the  Rarns- 
dell  woman  with  her  sister  was  about  to  follow 
the  stream  of  emigration  to  the  Reserve  and  had 
come  at  the  request  of  Lyddie's  sister,  Hannah, 
to  see  Lyddie  before  she  went  away ;  but  other 
things  were  very  likely  to  arise.  It  would  be 
best  to  make  the  change  at  once. 

She  decided  to  talk  to  her  husband  about  it, 
and  then  began  a  series  of  events  which  changed 
everything. 

And  first,  it  was  the  death  of  Rachel  Price, 
that  good  woman  whom  Lyddie  had  come  to 
love  almost  as  a  mother.  Her  illness  was  brief. 
286 


SOME   SEPARATIONS 

Lyddie  had  been  with  her  as  much  as  possible, 
but  had  found  her  presence  not  desired  in  the 
sick-room ;  she  found  she  cast  a  restraint  over 
William  Price,  that  he  avoided  her ;  and  even 
at  the  funeral,  in  the  face  of  that  great  event  of 
nature  that  so  often  breaks  down  all  the  arti 
ficial  barriers  and  allows  hearts  to  come  togeth 
er  in  a  moment  that  have  remained  apart  for 
years,  it  was  the  same.  Old  William  Price 
remained  alone ;  his  daughter  Sally  of  course 
was  with  him,  but  there  could  be  little  expres 
sion  of  sympathy  between  two  such  natures  as 
theirs.  It  was  Lyddie's  heart  that  yearned  for 
sympathy  with  the  old  gentleman.  She  knew 
that  he  suspected  her  of  worldly  motives.  She 
could  do  nothing  toward  rendering  his  life  less 
solitary  and  dreary  without  incurring  the  sus 
picion  of  trying  to  ingratiate  herself  with  him. 

The  child  was  born,  but  before  this  event 
Lyddie  and  her  husband  had  removed  to  an 
other  house.  Lyddie  had  made  up  her  mind 
that  the  right  thing  for  them  to  do  was  to  act 
as  though  there  were  no  interested  motives  pos 
sible.  Let  the  one  who  entertains  suspicion 
of  wrong  motives  suffer  for  entertaining  such 
suspicion.  So  they  invited  the  father-in-law  to 
the  house,  but  he  did  not  come.  He  met  his 
son  at  business  every  day,  but  their  social  re 
lations  did  not  extend  further  than  that.  They 
sent  him  notice  of  the  birth  of  the  boy,  and  he 
287 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

returned  them  his  congratulations  by  letter. 
"  The  innocence  in  the  eyes  of  a  grandchild," 
that  Hannah  had  put  into  such  ready  words,  did 
not  seem  yet  to  be  "  stronger  than  any  religious 
belief."  There  are  hearts  of  stone,  and  good 
hearts  too  in  most  respects,  that  when  it  comes 
to  some  foolish,  simple  phase  of  religion  are 
not  amenable  to  reason. 

William  Price  determined  to  get  his  property 
out  of  his  hands,  that  he  might  not  be  indi 
rectly,  even,  an  upholder  of  an  "  accursed  super 
stition."  He  was  too  good  a  man  to  want  to 
enjoy  what  one  of  his  family  did  not  possess. 
Sometimes  we  are  willing  to  inflict  only  a  pun 
ishment  that  we  ourselves  share.  He  deter 
mined  to  make  a  visit  to  his  brother  in  Provi 
dence.  He  turned  his  property  over  to  his 
daughter,  absolutely,  retaining  very  little  for 
himself.  Possibly  he  expected  it  would  be  re 
turned  to  him  later  on.  It  may  be  he  thought 
she  would  share  it  with  his  son,  and  in  this  way 
the  responsibility  would  fall  upon  her  ;  or  it  may 
be  he  thought  she  would  keep  it  and  the  odium 
of  depriving  his  son  of  any  share  in  it  would 
thus  be  taken  away  from  himself.  However 
that  may  be,  he  made  over  his  property  to  his 
daughter  and  went  on  his  visit. 

No  one  would  have  supposed  that  Sally 
Price  would  have  retained  everything  for  her 
self,  but  she  did.  She  was  absolutely  incapable 


SOME   SEPARATIONS 

of  generosity.  There  are  natures  with  a  con 
sciousness  of  their  own  weakness  so  great  that 
all  possible  aids  and  props  are  insufficient  to 
make  them  feel  secure.  They  retain  everything 
they  can  lay  hands  upon  from  a  feeling  of  the 
necessity  of  self-preservation.  "Let  them  have 
it ;  they  need  it,"  is  the  best  that  can  be  said 
of  them. 

"  We  can  do  without  it,"  is  what  William  Ol- 
ney  and  Lyddie  Price  said,  and  then,  without 
malice,  without  envy,  they  went  on  their  way 
enjoying  life,  happy,  generous,  and  striving.  It 
must  be  said,  too,  for  Lyddie  there  was  a  deep 
sense  of  satisfaction  that  she  could  not  now  be 
accused  of  having  obtained  the  Price  wealth  at 
the  cost  of  her  conscience. 

But  if  William  Price  counted  on  receiving 
back  from  his  daughter  the  control  of  his  es 
tate  he  had  been  misled.  Weak  natures,  grasp 
ing  at  the  supports  of  wealth,  are  likewise  easily 
affected  by  flattery.  Sally  Price,  before  long, 
was  attracted  by  a  schemer,  who  married  her 
for  her  money,  and  then  succeeded  in  running 
through  with  the  most  of  it ;  and,  in  her  fight 
to  save  the  remainder,  in  her  struggle  with  a 
vicious  nature,  the  woman  hardened  and  con 
tracted  into  one  of  those  little,  grasping,  cun 
ning  souls,  miserly  and  selfish.  I  suppose 
God  made  them,  but  so  he  did  the  weasel,  the 
henhawk,  and  the  blinking  owl.  Perhaps  it  is 
289 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

bettor  to  say  nothing  more  about  it.  She  got 
the  property,  and  kept  it.  She  never  helped  old 
William  Price,  and  he  needed  help  before  he 
died.  Does  any  one  suppose  he  would  take  it 
from  those  who  were  willing  and  able  to  give  it  ? 
Not  he,  he  would  have  died  first.  He  had  not 
been  brought  up  in  the  way  of  his  fathers  to 
leave  this  way  thoughtlessly  and  turn  aside  into 
the  broad  road  to  destruction. 

William  Olney  was  not  deprived  of  all  inheri 
tance  by  his  father's  action.  That  uncle  in  Prov 
idence,  by  some  change  in  the  peculiar  make-up 
of  humankind — perhaps  his  proximity  to  Bos 
ton  was  the  cause  of  it — had  taken  a  turn  to 
spiritualism.  Wrho  can  relate  the  causes?  It 
seemed  to  him  these  people  had  something  of  the 
old-fashioned  Quaker  about  them.  Perhaps  he 
had  met  with  that  Biblical  variety  who  really 
have  spiritual  and  religious  natures ;  at  any  rate, 
can  be  supposed  honest,  and  not  frauds  or  trick 
sters.  However  that  may  be,  he  was  not  alien 
ated  by  Lyddie's  claim  of  spiritualism ;  and  when 
he  died,  which  event  occurred  about  this  tima, 
he  left  his  property  to  his  nephew. 

"Lyddie,"  William  Olney  said  to  his  wife, 
"perhaps  thy  conscience  will  allow  thee  to  re 
main  a  good  Quaker  after  all." 

"  If  I  bear  the  name  and  the  reproach  of  the 
new  sect,"  Lyddie  replied,  "  I  should  think  my 
self  it  might  leave  me  at  peace  to  do  as  I  will. 
290 


SOME  SEPARATIONS 

But  let  us  do  everything  we  can  to  reconcile  thy 
father." 

And  that  was  no  easy  matter.  William  Price 
had  even  left  his  brother's  in  Providence,  because 
he  said  they  were  becoming  tainted  with  the 
new  heresy. 

"  My  brother,"  he  said,  "  has  gone  the  way  of 
the  rest  of  investigators.  Let  a  man  pay  the 
least  attention  to  that  heresy,  let  him  incline  his 
ear  but  in  the  least,  and  he  is  lost ;  he  might  as 
well  give  up  at  once.  The  Devil  has  that  man 
in  his  clutches." 

It  was  no  use  for  Caleb  Price  to  argue  that  it 
did  not  necessarily  mean  a  separation  from 
Christianity ;  on  the  other  hand  that  it  meant  its 
re-invigoration,  the  re-introduction  of  primitive 
faith. 

"  It  will  turn  again  to  Christ,  William,"  he 
said;  "be  sure  it  will;  for,  though  these  people 
do  not  speak  of  Christ  much  as  yet  and  are 
more  occupied  with  signs  and  omens,  with  mira 
cles  and  visions,  they  will  find  these,  as  Jesus 
said,  all  unsatisfactory  at  last  unless  they  are 
connected  with  a  strong  and  great  personality. 
That  is  what  makes  the  Divine  on  earth.  The 
place  of  all  these  people  is  in  the  church  of 
Christ,  and  that  is  where  they  will  eventually  be 
found,  with  new  insight  and  stronger  faith.  I 
tell  thee  the  church  itself  is  in  danger,  for  it  has 
lost  the  belief  in  the  miraculous.  It  hoots  at  the 
291 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

verity  of  dreams,  and  scoffs  at  presentiments 
and  spiritual  warnings ;  it  derides  the  secret  con 
verse  of  the  soul  with  God,  and  the  spiritual 
world ;  it  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  the  inward  voice, 
and  its  greatest  heroes  of  the  modern  days  are 
such  men  as  practise  the  dogmas  of  an  absolute 
ly  unreligious  morality ;  as  though  the  deep  les 
sons  of  Christ  could  be  inculcated  in  mankind 
without  the  previous  awakening  of  spiritual  in 
sight.  As  well  might  one  expect  the  seed  to  ger 
minate  and  grow  on  entirely  uncultivated  soil." 

But  we  need  not  follow  their  conversation. 
William  Price  was  uninfluenced  by  it. 

"There  is  no  religion  in  it,"  he  said;  "'its 
place  is  not  in  the  church ;  it  is  not  new  wine 
in  old  bottles,  for  it  is  not  wine  at  all.  It  is 
nothing  but  acidity." 

So  he  had  left  his  brother's  with  anything 
but  friendly  feelings,  and  not  long  after  that 
the  brother  had  died.  Then  he  returned  home 
to  Hesper,  where  he  still  owned  a  small  house, 
and  a  little  farm,  from  wrhich  he  derived  a 
moderate  living.  His  daughter  had  removed  to 
the  city  of  Decorah.  He  seldom  saw  her.  His 
life  was  solitary  and  without  many  comforts, 
but  he  would  not  allow  his  son  or  his  son's  wife 
to  make  it  more  cheerful.  He  preferred  not  to 
be  connected  with  them.  William  Olney  tried 
to  interest  him  in  his  own  business  and  get  him 
to  take  some  connection  with  it  again.  Not  a 
292 


SOME   SEPARATIONS 

thing  would  lie  have  to  do  with  it.  That 
precious  grandchild  of  his  he  had  never  seen. 
He  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  "  tainted  and 
heretical "  blood.  His  obstinacy  and  reserve 
and  solitude  bade  fair  to  turn  into  comedy  pretty 
soon.  People  already  said  he  was  ridiculously 
foolish. 

Meanwhile  Lyddie  had  been  going  to  the 
Quaker  meetings  again,  and  she  and  her  hus 
band  were  united  in  tender  sympathy  for  the 
solitary  old  father.  In  the  evenings  they  sat  and 
talked  together,  or  played  with  the  child,  and 
every  once  in  a  while  would  wonder  what  grand 
pa  was  doing  ;  they  never  met  at  night  but 
Lyddie  asked  her  husband  if  he  had  seen  father 
to-day,  or  how  he  was  looking. 

Lyddie  always  retained  charity  for  him  and 
never  blamed  him.  "  He  cannot  help  it,"  she 
said,  "  any  more  than  I  could  help  being  what  I 
was,  or  any  of  us  can  help  being  what  we  are. 
The  only  thing  is,  as  Enoch  used  to  say,  to  over 
come  all  prejudices  by  being  better  acquainted 
with  one  another." 

But  a  way  to  bring  that  about  seemed  impos 
sible.  If  William  Price  could  be  taken  ill  and 
brought  into  the  house,  then  perhaps  his  preju 
dice  might  wear  off ;  but  there  seemed  to  be  no 
likelihood  of  such  a  thing. 

Now  all  this  time  Lyddie  was  thought  by  her 
sister  and  by  William  Price  simply  to  have 
293 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

played  a  part,  but  she  said  as  long  as  her  hus 
band  believed  in  her,  and  as  long  as  her  own 
conscience  was  clear  she  should  not  much  con 
sider  what  people  thought  of  her.  Lyddio 
asked  herself  over  and  over  what  miracle  could 
bring  that  old  gentleman  back  to  them  and 
reconcile  him  to  them  before  he  died.  Could 
any  miracle  do  it  ? 

Perhaps  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  let  him 
alone,  but  that  was  a  matter  of  Lyddie's  con 
science  and  she  could  not  cease  from  attempt 
ing  to  reconcile  him.  It  was  the  one  thing  she 
was  determined  to  accomplish.  She  thought 
about  it  day  and  night.  She  did  trivial  things, 
influenced  solely  by  that  thought.  When  she 
was  out  with  the  child  in  its  carriage,  she  un 
consciously  took  the  street  on  which  she  felt  she 
might  meet  William  Price.  She  passed  his 
house  frequently ;  she  thought  of  going  in  and 
pleading  with  him. 

"  Don't  work  thyself  up  into  another  spell," 
her  husband  said  to  her.  "  Don't  get  to  think 
ing  it  is  thy  conscience  again  and  so  make  thy 
self  and  everybody  about  thee  miserable.  It  is 
now  just  as  at  the  time  of  our  marriage,  a  ques 
tion  of  two  against  one,  or  rather  now  of  three 
against  one,  for  there  is  the  baby  to  consider.  As 
long  as  father  has  enough  to  live  on  and  has 
proper  care  and  attention,  I  shall  not  greatly 
worry."  And  so  it  continued. 
294 


SOME   SEPARATIONS 

Finally  William  Price  did  fall  ill  and  was 
brought  into  their  house  for  a  time  —  much 
against  his  wishes,  it  must  be  confessed — andLyd- 
die  and  her  husband  nursed  him  with  the  greatest 
care,  and  yet  he  was  not  reconciled ;  and,  when 
he  recovered,  he  went  back  to  his  old  habits 
and  lived  as  before,  and  Lyddie  felt  that  now 
all  chance  of  reconciliation  was  gone.  Lyddie 
Price  was  a  strange  person,  like  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby,  in  some  respects.  She  could  not 
bear  to  have  any  one  think  ill  of  her ;  it  gave 
her  actual  pain. 

"  What  can  I  do  ;  what  can  I  do  ?  "  she  asked 
herself,  over  and  over,  when  thinking  of  her 
father-in-law.  "  What  would  Enoch  Willough- 
by  do  in  such  a  case  ?  " 

Her  thoughts  were  kept  still  more  on  Enoch 
Willoughby  by  letters  that  she  received  from 
her  nephew.  James,  indeed,  was  the  only  one 
that  wrote  to  her.  Hannah  did  not  pour  meta 
phorical  coals  of  fire ;  she  might  possibly  have 
poured  real  coals.  She  took  no  "  stock "  in 
Lyddie's  spiritualism. 

"  Her  conscience  hurts  her  a  little,"  she  said, 
"  and  she  has  taken  that  very  easy  means  of 
pacifying  it." 

But  little  James  loved  that  gentle  aunt  of  his ; 

the   recollection   of  her  was  always  with  him. 

Often  he  wanted  to  pour  out  his  soul  to  her  as 

he  did  in  the  old  days.     His   father  was   too 

295 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

deeply  hidden  in  spiritual  clouds,  liis  mother 
too  changeable  and  too  radical  ;  he  missed  the 
gentle  and  benign  reason  of  Aunt  "  Tid."  So 
he  began  the  habit  of  writing  to  her,  nearly  al 
ways  under  the  influence  of  some  strong  emo 
tion  ;  sometimes  a  burst  of  auger,  a  feeling  of 
tenderness ;  sometimes  religious  zeal,  or  relig 
ious  bitterness,  if  we  may  call  it  so  ;  and  then 
he  would  add  a  few  words  about  the  new  place 
and  what  was  going  on  there. 
Here  is  one  of  his  letters. 

DEAR  AUNT  TID  : 

We  have  come  to  the  wildest  and  worst  place  in 
the  world.  I  feel  sure  we've  got  nearly  to  the  bottom 
of  things.  It  is  much  worse  here  than  it  used  to  be 
there.  The  same  old  trouble  with  the  Quakers  is 
running  on.  Father  and  mother  began  going  to 
meeting  to  Tonganoxie  and  that  started  the  whole 
thing  again.  You  know  Abijah  Willetts  has  moved 
to  this  neighborhood,  and  he  had  something  to  do 
with  it.  They've  got  another  investigating  committee 
appointed,  and  they  come  out  here  every  week  or  so 
and  talk  religion  and  eat  up  all  our  best  pullets,  and 
then  all  those  spiritualists  have  come  in  that  used 
to  live  up  near  us,  and  they  are  about  the  place  a 
great  deal,  talking  religion  too. 

The  Indians  haven't  been  gone  long  from  this  place 
and  they  left  their  spirits  behind,  it  seems,  and  these 
mediums  have  caught  them.  I  call  them  manitous. 
They  call  it  "speaking  with  tongues,"  but  I  think  it 
would  be  hard  work  for  them  to  find  an  interpreter. 

O  Tid,  you  don't  know  how  I  hate  the  whole  thing. 
296 


SOME  SEPARATIONS 

I  hate  all  religion  ;  I  think  they're  crazy,  all  of  them, 
the  old  Quaker  women,  and  the  spiritual  mediums, 
and  all  of  them.  I  go  to  the  High  School  at  Law 
rence,  and  I  intend  to  go  to  the  college  some  day  ;  but 
I  wouldn't  have  anybody  know  that  my  people  are 
spiritualists  for  the  world.  I  think  I  should  die  of 
shame.  And  father's  doing  everything  he  can  to  send 
me  to  school.  I  believe  he'd  take  the  last  dollar  he  had 
to  pay  my  board,  and  yet  I  wouldn't  have  him  come 
down  to  school  to  see  me  for  anything  in  the  world. 
Sometimes  I  wish  he  was  a  catholic  or  an  old  atheist 
or  anything  that  was  respectable,  I  wouldn't  care 
what.  I'm  going  to  be  an  Ingersollian. 

Mother  has  gone  over  to  the  mediums  and  got  very 
thick  with  them.  The  way  it  came  about  was,  she 
was  sick,  and  they  thought  she  was  going  to  die,  and 
the  Quakers  heard  of  it,  and  some  of  the  women 
folks  thought  it  was  too  bad  for  her  to  die  a  spirit 
ualist  and  go  to  the  devil,  so  they  appointed  a  com 
mittee  to  come  and  visit  her  ;  mother  had  been  sick 
on  her  back  in  bed  for  I  don't  know  how  long,  but 
the  moment  those  women  came  in,  and  began  to  talk 
to  her  about  dying — you  know  how  mother  is — she 
took  fire  in  a  minute,  and  sprang  out  of  bed,  under 
the  influence,  and  talked  to  them  as  though  she  had 
been  sent  to  preach  to  them  and  not  they  to  her. 
Mother  is  such  an  awful  hater,  you  know  ;  she  never 
forgave  them  for  thinking  she  was  going  to  die  when 
she  wasn't.  It  was  a  good  deal  such  a  time  as  she 
had  when  the  Prices  first  came  to  visit  us,  you  re 
member,  only  worse.  Well,  then,  those  women, 
Susan  and  P'lene,  came  down  from  our  old  neighbor 
hood,  arid  they  took  mother  up  and  encouraged  her  ; 
told  her  she  would  soon  be  well,  that  they  had  it 
from  some  mysterious  source  or  other,  and  they 
297 


ENOCH   WILLOUGUBY 

helped  take  care  of  her  and  came  in  often— too  often, 
some  of  us  thought — and  now,  since  she's  got  better, 
she  don't  go  with  anybody  else. 

And  then  father  is  the  same  man  he  always  was. 
Mother  and  I  don't  like  the  way  he  does  at  all,  but 
as  far  as  that  goes,  there  don't  any  of  us  like  what 
the  others  do.  I  don't  like  mother's  going  with 
Susan  and  P'lene  so  much,  and  mother  thinks  it  fool 
ish  for  me  to  go  off  to  school — it's  just  because  she 
knows  I  go  with  the  Christians  there— and  father 
thinks  mother  makes  all  her  religion  herself,  and 
mother  thinks  father's  religion  is  all  obstinacy  and 
envy  and  came  from  his  queer  spells  in  meeting.  But 
what  I  was  going  to  say,  was,  he  has  the  same  habit 
of  being  "moved"  to  speak  to  people  about  their 
sins  that  he  used  to  have,  and  it's  a  good  deal  worse 
here  ;  he'd  better  be  careful.  There's  a  worse  dis 
trict  here  than  that  of  old  Nine  Mile.  It  is  called 
the  "Big  Stranger  district,"  and  there  is  the  worst 
set  of  people  there  that  ever  settled  in  this  country. 
They're  awful.  Some  of  them  settled  here  among 
the  Indians,  and  were  squatters.  They're  raccoon 
hunters,  and  nearly  all  have  foxhounds  and  live  just 
any  way,  and  father  intends  to  go  and  talk  spiritual 
ism  to  them.  It's  dreadful.  Mother  and  I  tell  him 
we  think  it  would  be  a  good  deal  better  if  they'd  lye- 
long  to  somebody  else's  religion,  but  you  know  that's 
not  father's  way.  Uncle  John's  have  comedown  too, 
and  that  same  old  story  is  to  be  gone  through  with. 
Well,  good-by.  I  do  wish  you  would  come  and  see  us. 

Your  aff.  nephew, 
JAMES  WILLOUGUBY. 

How  Lyddie  could  picture  the  whole  thing  out 
to  herself ! 


SOME   SEPARATIONS 

She  knew  that  whole  life  with  its  strangeness 
and  its  intensity.  She  had  herself  gone  through 
with  it  and  come  out  into  something  so  much 
better  and  clearer  and  purer,  she  felt  a  sweet 
satisfaction  as  she  thought  of  her  own  home  and 
her  life,  her  husband,  her  child,  and — but  ah ! 
there  was  a  sting  about  it  still.  She  yearned  too 
for  the  people  of  her  old  home. 

What  a  pleasure  they  did  get  once  out  of  that 
religious  wrangle  ;  perhaps  it  was  the  pleasure  of 
spiritual  growth  and  expansion,  which  is  not 
found  in  perfect  characters  :  it  is  not  the  whole 
that  have  need  of  the  physician.  There  was 
something  pleasant  about  that  old  life.  She 
would  like  to  see  it  again.  She  would  like  to 
show  her  sister  that  she  did  not  feel  herself 
above  her;  she  had  none  of  those  foolish  no 
tions  that  separate  people  on  account  of  relig 
ious  belief.  Perhaps  she  would  go  and  make 
them  a  visit  some  time. 

And  then  came  another  letter  from  little 
James : 

DEAR  AUNT  TID  : 

You  know  what  an  aggravating  set  of  young  ones 
Uncle  John's  children  used  to  be,  and  you  remember 
what  trouble  father  had  with  the  oldest  ones  in  Iowa. 
Well,  we're  having  it  worse  than  ever  with  the 
younger  generation — I  came  very  near  writing  ".Gen 
eration  of  Vipers."  You  don't  know  how  mother  and 
I  hate  the  whole  set,  and  how  nice  we  have  to  be  to 
299 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

them  because  father  promised  Uncle  John  and  Aunt 
Lisbeth  when  they  died  that  he'd  take  it  on  himself 
to  look  after  their  helpless  children.  Mother  said  if 
he  succeeded  in  properly  taking  care  of  his  own  fam 
ily,  he'd  do  fairly  well.  But  you  know  how  it  always 
was  with  him  ;  he's  always  willing  to  help  anybody, 
the  poorer  they  are  the  better,  and  then  he'll  save  at 
home  and  scrimp  and  tell  us  how  careful  we  ought 
to  be  not  to  waste  a  penny,  and  the  next  day  go  Jared 
Simms'  security  for  a  team  of  horses  and  lose  it  too, 
and  so  he's  helped  every  one  of  those  children  and 
he  gets  no  thanks  for  it.  You  ought  to  see  and  hear 
what  airs  they  put  on  when  they  come  to  our  house, 
because  they  think  spiritualism  is  disreputable. 
They've  all  been  to  some  high-flown  church  or  other. 
Since  their  father  and  mother  died,  they  all  claim  now 
to  be  Episcopalians  or  some  such  thing,  because  they 
think  it  looks  big.  Mother  says  they  don't  know  any 
more  about  religion  than  so  many  monkeys.  There 
are  Lil  and  Frank  and  Nole  and  Ken  and  Val,  and 
father  will  have  to  help  everyone  to  get  a  start,  just 
as  he  did  all  the  older  ones  ;  and  we  don't  see  much 
prospect  of  getting  out  of  it  soon. 

O,  yes,  and  now  we've  got  Aunt  Tute  quartered  on 
us ;  she's  your  sister,  and  mother  says  some  pretty 
sharp  things,  because  you  did  not  take  her  and  take 
care  of  her.  But  she  won't  stay  long,  that's  one  con 
solation.  She's  as  'fraid  as  death  here,  and  every 
time  they  have  a  meeting,  she  goes  off  upstairs  and 
crawls  into  bed  and  covers  up,  head  and  ears,  and  re 
peats  whole  pages  of  Pinneo's  Grammar  to  keep  from 
hearing  what's  going  on  below  ;  and  then  she'll  have 
the  pouts  and  sit  around  for  two  or  three  days  and 
hardly  speak  to  anybody.  I  think  she's  going  away 
though  pretty  soon.  She  declares  she  won't  stay  iq 
300 


SOME  SEPARATIONS 

this  accursed  country.  Aunt  Tute's  a  Quaker,  and 
she's  been  telling  the  Quakers  awful  things  about  us, 
no  telling  just  what.  I  wish  she  would  go.  I'm  go 
ing  back  to  school  to-inorrow.  Write  soon  and  tell 
me  if  you  can't  come. 

Your  affectionate  nephew, 

JAMES  WILLOUGHBY. 


At  times  Lyddie  thought  the  only  way  possi 
ble  to  conquer  her  father-in-law's  determination 
was  by  some  miraculous  intervention  of  the 
spirits.  If  William  Price  could  fall  into  a  trance, 
as  Peter  did  when  about  to  receive  the  message 
from  Cornelius,  and  hear  a  voice  bidding  him, 
he  might  obey  it.  But  William  Price  did  not 
fall  into  trances  or  have  spiritual  visions  or  hear 
voices.  That  is  the  trouble  with  that  kind  of 
miracle,  it  only  occurs  to  those  in  whom  such 
things  are  not  strange  or  wonderful;  and  yet 
Lyddie  half  believed  and  half  expected  it.  If 
wishing  and  hoping  and  silent  prayers  could 
have  brought  it  about,  it  would  long  since  have 
happened. 

This,  too,  made  her  think  more  and  more  of 
Enoch  Willoughby  and  want  to  see  him.  She 
felt  that  in  his  presence  such  powers  were  more 
likely  to  bo  manifested.  Spiritual  natures  rein 
force  one  another.  The  Quaker  preachers  used 
always  to  have  a  travelling  companion,  who  was 
selected  for  his  power  to  reinforce  the  speaker 
301 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

spiritually.  "  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  my  name,  I  will  be  with  them." 
Lyddie  believed  this.  With  Enoch  Willoughby, 
she  had  always  felt  as  though  the  heavens  were 
just  ready  to  open.  She  longed  to  be  with  him 
again.  There  was  a  spiritual  union  greater  and 
stronger  than  any  kinship.  With  it  the  earth 
was  full  of  life ;  without  it,  life  upon  the  earth 
was  meagre  indeed.  She  was  already  thinking 
she  would  go  to  the  Reserve  herself,  when  an 
other  letter  from  her  nephew  decided  her. 

DEAR  AUNT  LYBDIE  : 

I  ain  going  away  now  for  a  long  time.  I  am  going 
off  to  school,  and  must  go,  and  yet  I  feel  that  I  am 
leaving  the  folks  at  home  in  the  worst  situation 
they  have  ever  been  in.  I  must  tell  you  and  urge 
you  to  go  and  see  them.  Aunt  Tute  has  gone.  She 
shook  off  the  dust  of  her  feet  against  our  house  and 
left  it  for  good.  Father  tried  to  have  her  stay,  but 
not  she.  Mother  said  she'd  a  great  deal  rather  have 
Susan  Rarnsdell  for  a  sister  than  her,  but  you  know 
how  mother  talks.  I  think  mother  has  got  to  be  care 
ful  ;  she'll  do  something  awful  some  day  When  those 
spells  come  on  her,  nothing  can  control  her  ;  she  en 
courages  them  too.  You  remember  how  she  talked 
to  the  William  Prices  the  first  time  they  came  to  see 
us.  Well  she  did  worse  than  that  to  old  Abijah 
Willetts.  They've  got  him  on  the  everlasting  investi 
gating  committee.  They  don't  know  anything  about 
his  character,  of  course,  or  they  would  not  have  put 
him  on  it.  So  the  last  time  they  came  out,  mother 
had  one  of  her  spells,  and  such  a  raking  over  as  she 
302 


SOME  SEPARATIONS 

gave  old  Abijah.  No  one  could  stop  her ;  she  had 
that  wild  look  in  her  eyes  ;  they  were  all  afraid  of  her. 
She  marched  right  into  the  room  with  that  something 
about  her,  and  walked  up  to  Abijah  and  pointed 
her  finger  at  him,  and  then  she  told  him  all  that  she 
had  ever  heard  about  him,  about  his  stealing  those 
horses  and  cheating  the  buyer  of  his  farm  out  of  the 
taxes.  Father  tried  to  stop  her,  but  it  was  no  use. 
She  couldn't  be  stopped  except  by  main  force.  Finally 
Willetts  fairly  broke  and  ran ;  he  got  up  and  left  the 
room  and  didn't  come  back  again.  It  was  some  time 
before  she  came  out  of  it.  I'm  afraid  she'll  do  some 
thing  awful  some  day,  and  those  women  encourage 
her  in  it.  I  don't  think  they  see  the  danger  in  it.  I 
want  you  to  go  and  see  her  and  see  if  you  can't  try 
to  have  her  control  herself,  and  not  let  the  spirits 
come  on  her  so  much. 

Now,  I'm  afraid  they're  going  to  have  trouble  out 
there.  Father  has  many  enemies  as  well  as  many 
friends.  Those  who  don't  know' him  are  nearly  all 
his  enemies,  and  those  who  do  know  him  at  all  well 
are  nearly  all  his  friends. 

He  certainly  is  the  strangest  man  that  ever  lived. 
Sometimes  mother  and  I  think  he  don't  care  any 
more  for  us  than  he  does  for  Jared  Simins'  old  black 
Betty,  or  for  any  other,  the  worst  and  poorest  person 
on  Big  Stranger  Creek,  and  then  we  fairly  hate  him. 
We  sit  together  and  talk  about  him  and  say  things 
that  we're  ashamed  of  afterwards.  But  he  likes 
everybody  pretty  much  all  the  same,  it  doesn't  make 
any  difference  who  they  are,  and  that's  what  we  can't 
understand.  Sometimes  I  think  he's  the  only  genu 
ine  Christian  ever  I  knew,  but  it  makes  mother  furi 
ous  when  I  say  that.  But  when  you  think  how  he 
acts,  it  seems  like  it,  and  when  you  think  what  he 
303 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

says,  it  all  seems  clear,  and  to  me  it  seems  Christian. 
He  don't  talk  much  about  Christ,  only  sometimes  he'll 
say  "  Jesus  said  this  or  that,"  and  use  him  as  an  ex 
ample.  He  doesn't  try  to  build  up  a  big  association 
with  by-laws  and  constitutions,  bath-houses  and  news 
paper-rooms.  He  don't  try  to  teach  people  to  observe 
the  Sabbath,  or  do  any  of  those  little  things  that 
commonly  mean  to  do  good.  But  he  somehow  makes 
every  man  first  believe  he  has  in  himself  an  immortal 
spirit,  and  as  soon  as  they  believe  that,  they  begin  to 
change.  First  they  seem  to  get  a  little  afraid,  and 
then  they  get  to  wanting  to  know  more  about  it,  and 
wanting  strange  tests  to  prove  it.  Then  he  tells  them 
to  sit  together  in  small  companies  in  quiet,  and  to 
wait  on  the  spirit,  and  they  may  hear,  or  see,  or  feel 
something  they  don't  understand  that  will  convince 
them.  They  do  it  and  they  l>ecome  convinced  some 
way,  I  don't  know  how.  Then  when  they  want  to 
know  more,  he  tells  them  the  Bible  is  full  of  it,  and 
advises  them  to  read  and  find  out  for  themselves.  He 
peoples  the  air  with  spirits,  and  with  a  Kingdom, 
and  with  God  at  the  head  of  it.  Sometimes  when 
mother  and  I  think  how  he  spends  his  time  working 
for  other  people,  he  seems  to  us  more  like  Jesus  than 
anybody  we  ever  knew,  and  we  think  he  is  almost  too 
good  and  high  to  be  one  of  our  family,  and  we  fairly 
venerate  him  ;  and  then,  as  I  said  before,  we  just  get 
to  hating  him,  and  mother  declares  he  is  bringing  a 
whole  raft  of  good-for-nothing  men  and  women  about 
the  house  and  tracking  up  the  floor  for  no  manner  of 
any  good,  and  sometimes  I  believe  in  him  and  some 
times  I  don't.  But  one  thing,  he  talks  about  things 
that  I  can  understand,  and  not  about  something 
away  off  two  thousand  years  ago,  and  it  touches  peo 
ple.  They  come  to  hear  him  talk.  I  don't  mean 
304 


SOME  SEPARATIONS 

preach  ;  he  can't  do  that  now  any  better  than  he  used 
to  when  he  was  a  Quaker — and  that's  what  makes 
some  people  hate  him.  They  say  he's  stirring  up  the 
people,  and  making  them  leave  their  old  churches, 
and  drawing  them  off  into  a  new  sect, — it  is  no  use 
for  him  to  deny  it  and  say  he  wants  people  to  go  into 
the  churches,  to  put  new  wine  into  old  bottles.  They 
won't  believe  it  and  I'm  afraid  something  is  going  to 
happen  ;  if  you  could  come  down  and  go  to  the  meet 
ing,  and  have  them  go  a  little,  I've  thought  maybe 
things  would  blow  over.  I'd  like  to  tell  you  more, 
but  if  you  come  you'll  see  how  it  is  at  home.  I'll  not 
write  any  more  about  home  again;  I've  got  to  go 
away,  and  I  hope  you'll  write  to  me  about  them 
before  long. 

Your  affectionate  nephew, 

JAMES  WILLOUGHBY. 


305 


XXXV 

THE  "RESERVE " 

OUR  scene  now  changes.  It  is  night  and 
dark,  in  a  country  part  trees,  part  prairie.  It 
shall  be  a  country  without  true  name,  for  what 
is  about  to  be  enacted  there  is  best  not  too 
closely  located.  We  have  chosen  to  call  it  the 
"  Keserve."  Perhaps  this  means  that  reserved, 
held  back  from  the  brighter  light  of  civilization 
and  progress,  are  dark  spots  in  human  nature 
or  the  human  heart,  in  which  gloomy  passions 
and  uncultivated  intelligence  still  lie  brooded 
over  by  strange  fancies. 

In  the  " Reserve"  were  long  woody  valleys 
into  which  ran,  deep,  dark  hollows  and  gullies 
from  rough  unserviceable  hills.  There  were 
places  without  trees,  high  and  rounded  like  the 
tops  of  billows,  and  on  one  of  these  stood  a 
house.  From  this  house  a  light  shone  out  over 
a  path  leading  to  a  road  ;  on  this  road  some 
distance  away  in  a  hollow,  concealed  by  trees 
and  darkness,  stood  a  group  of  men  on  horse 
back.  They  were  drawn  up  close  together  in 
consultation.  After  a  time  one  of  them  dis- 
306 


THE   "RESERVE" 

mounted,  and  taking  something  in  his  hand,  left 
the  group  and  walked  up  the  hill.  Reaching 
the  path,  he  turned  into  it  and  cautiously  ap 
proached  the  house.  There  he  stooped,  thrust 
what  he  was  carrying  in  his  hand  beneath  the 
door,  rose  hurriedly,  knocked  once  or  twice  so 
loud  and  strong  that  a  dog  in  the  rear  of  the 
house  heard  and  began  to  bark;  then  turned 
and  retreated  rapidly  down  the  path  toward 
the  road. 

Just  then  the  door  of  the  house  behind  him 
opened  ;  the  light  flashed  out  and  disclosed  him 
distinctly  to  view.  The  same  moment  he  whirled 
rapidly  from  the  path,  reached  the  road  at  a 
bound  and  disappeared  toward  the  hollow. 

Pretty  soon  horses'  feet  were  heard  galloping 
off  in  the  direction  of  Big  Stranger.  When  the 
sound  had  died  out  in  the  distance,  the  man 
wrho  had  opened  the  door,  turned  as  if  about  to 
go  in  ;  and,  glancing  down  at  his  feet,  discovered 
something  lying  there.  He  stooped  and  picked 
it  up.  It  was  a  piece  of  paper.  Then  he  went 
in  and  closed  the  door. 

Within  the  house  we  should  have  found  our 
old  acquaintances — Enoch  and  Hannah,  and 
Lyddie  with  her  baby,  at  last  come  on  the  long- 
deferred  visit.  There  besides  was  an  old  col 
ored  woman,  large  and  strong,  the  "help"  of 
the  household  ;  there  were  a  hired  man  or  two ; 
and  to-night  there  was  a  woman  staying  there 
307 


ENOCH   WILLOTJGHBY 

called  "  old  Betty,"  come  in  for  a  few  days  to 
do  extra  work  while  Lyddie  was  "  visiting." 

The  room  had  been  quiet  and  peaceful ;  a 
stranger  would  have  seen  nothing  unusual  about 
it.  Lyddie  had  the  child  on  her  lap  and  was 
fondling  it.  Hannah  had  been  noticing  the 
child  and  had  remarked  that  it  was  more  like 
William  Olney  than  it  was  like  "you." 

There  was  something  so  unusual  to  Lyddie 
about  the  word  "  you  "  that  she  looked  up  and 
said;  "  I  don't  see  how  thee  can  do  it,  Hannah  ; 
it  doesn't  sound  right  for  thee  to  call  me  by  that 
word." 

But  Hannah  replied  that  they  had  fallen  into 
the  way  of  it  pretty  much  of  late,  and  then  Lyddie 
asked  her  as  a  favor  to  continue  the  old  style  of 
address  while  she  was  there. 

"It  won't  be  for  very  long,  and  surely  not 
very  difficult,"  she  said,  "  and  thee  can't  do  any 
thing  to  make  me  feel  more  at  home  than  that, 
and  thee  certainly  could  not  do  aught  to  make 
me  feel  so  much  a  stranger  as  to  call  me 
'you.'" 

So  Hannah  had  assented,  and  then  there  had 
followed  one  of  those  long  conversations  that  we 
all  like  so  well  when  we  go  back  to  the  old  home, 
the  old  friends,  after  a  long  absence.  How  they 
go  to  the  heart  in  some  way !  Lyddie  had  asked 
about  so  many  things,  little  things,  pieces  of 
furniture,  an  old  chair,  and  the  looking-glass 
303 


THE  "RESERVE" 

with  its  black  composition  frame,  that  she 
had  wreathed  in  asparagus  and  cat-tails  years 
ago ;  and  so  on  without  end,  till  at  last  Hannah 
said : 

"  Why,  Lyddie,  I  never  supposed  thee  cared 
anything  about  such  things,  thee  is  so  high- 
minded  and  spiritual." 

They  had  been  careful  not  to  mention  that  lat 
ter  word ;  there  might  be  something  unpleasant 
about  it.  They  did  not  know  exactly  how  Lyd 
die  had  made  out  in  her  new  surroundings ;  and 
then,  too,  there  was  always  the  feeling  that  when 
once  that  subject  was  started  it  would  go  on  with 
out  end,  and  leave  no  place  for  any  other. 

Hannah  was  very  anxious  to  know  how  Lyddie 
did  get  on  with  William  Price  and  the  rest  of  the 
Quakers,  and  Lyddie  was  about  equally  anxious 
to  know  how  things  were  running  here,  and 
whether  there  was  anything  in  the  difficulty  that 
her  nephew  had  hinted  at,  because  of  which  he 
had  been  so  desirous  of  having  her  come,  when 
Lyddie  thought  she  heard  a  noise. 

"Is  not  that  someone  at  the  door?"  she 
asked,  and  at  once  all  stopped  and  listened. 
But  there  was  no  sound,  and  they  were  about  to 
go  on  talking  when  there  had  come  a  loud,  harsh 
rap,  and  immediately  the  footsteps  were  heard 
going  away  down  the  path. 

"  There,"  Lyddie  said,  "  I  was  sure  I  heard 
someone." 

309 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

Then  Enoch  Willoughby  went  to  the  door  and 
opened  it,  saying  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  It  is  very  strange  that  anyone  should  knock 
and  then  run  away." 

When  he  opened  the  door,  he  had  stood  gazing 
out  still  more  surprised,  for  he  could  not  under 
stand  why  the  visitor  should  have  whirled  off 
the  path  like  that  and  run  away  down  the  road. 

He  had  been  about  to  close  the  door  when  he 
saw  the  paper. 

"Somebody  has  knocked  and  left  this  note, 
and  then  run  away,"  he  said,  coming  back  into 
the  room.  "  Let  us  see  what  the  note  is." 

He  took  it  to  the  light,  and  Hannah  and 
Lyddie  got  up  and  came  near  to  hear  it  read. 
Enoch's  hand  began  to  tremble  so  that  he  could 
with  difficulty  read  the  paper,  but  with  an  effort 
he  controlled  himself,  and  said  :  "  I  hardly  know, 
Hannah,  whether  I  ought  to  let  thee  and  Lyddio 
know  the  contents  of  this  note  or  not.  It  is  of  no 
importance  at  most,  but  yet  it  is  of  very  unpleas 
ant  import.  It  is  another  threatening  letter,  just 
such  a  one  as  that  which  Ted  Blood  sent  me,  thee 
remembers,  in  Iowa,  which  turned  out  so  pleas 
antly,  and  eventually  made  us  so  good  a  friend. 
Let  us  hope  that  this  may  have  as  good  an 
ending." 

Then  he  was  about  to  put  the  letter  in  his 
pocket,  when  both  of  the  women  asked  him  what 
it  was. 

310 


THE   "RESERVE" 

"  Let  us  see  it,"  they  said ;  "  it  is  not  right  to 
keep  it  to  thyself." 

Enoch,  still  holding  the  paper  so  that  they 
could  not  see  it,  philosophized  for  a  time,  as  he 
always  did  on  every  action. 

"It  is  true  the  apprehension  of  evil  is  always 
greater  than  the  evil  itself,  but  this  is  coarse 
and  brutal,  and  repugnant  to  every  finer  sense. 
If  thee  wants  to  see  it,  Hannah,  be  calm  and 
control  thyself  and  do  not  think  much  about 
it."  Then  he  laid  the  sheet  of  paper  on  the 
table  before  them. 

It  was  a  large  sheet  of  heavy  writing-paper, 
near  the  top  of  which  was  roughly  drawn  with 
red  ink  a  skull  and  cross-bones,  and  then  in  large 
printed  letters  that  completely  filled  the  page, 
these  words,  that  Enoch  Willoughby  had  rightly 
characterized  as  coarse  and  brutal : 

"  YOU  DAMNED  SPIRITUALIST,  PEEPAEE  TO  LEAVE 
THIS  COUNTRY." 

The  letter  was  not  signed  and  not  directed. 

"  Now  don't  be  frightened,"  were  Enoch  Wil 
loughby 's  first  words ;  "  remember  all  the  time 
how  the  other  letter  turned  out,  and  that  this 
may  even  result  better  than  that." 

But  Hannah  was  already  crying,  and  Lyddie 
was  walking  up  and  down  the  room  with  the 
baby  in  her  arms,  and  the  distress  of  the  whole 
family  was  very  great. 

311 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

"  That  is  the  way  it  always  is,"  said  Enoch,  in 
a  calm,  peaceful  tone,  as  much  to  himself  as  to 
the  two  women ;  "  a  difference  in  thought  among 
the  spiritually  minded  becomes  two  opposing 
armies  among  those  of  the  world,  and  so  Christ 
was  driven  from  place  to  place,  and  yet  his  king 
dom  conquered  and  will  conquer ;  and  when  force 
is  met  by  force,  then  the  demons  of  hate  are 
aroused  and  let  loose.  No ;  the  force  of  the 
flesh  must  be  met  only  by  the  force  of  the 
spirit." 

His  logic  was  not  close,  but  he  was  already 
arranging  his  plan  of  defence. 

"The  only  difficulty,"  he  continued,  "is  that 
they  do  not  know  us,  and  think  they  are  doing 
a  righteous  act  in  persecuting  us,  and  driving 
us  from  the  country.  They  are  hardly  to  blame 
for  it ;  for,  when  men  set  up  only  tradition  and 
authority,  they  cannot  understand  what  comes 
to  them  in  a  new  garb." 

Perhaps  he  would  have  gone  on  all  night  in 
reflection,  if  Hannah  had  not  risen  and  said : 
"  Now,  Enoch,  I  want  thee  to  make  up  thy  mind 
at  once  what  thee  will  do.  Thee  must  either 
obey  the  letter  and  prepare  to  sell  out  so  that 
they  can  see  that  thee  is  obeying  it,  or  thee  must 
prepare  for  a  defence.  For  my  part  I  am  not 
very  particular  which.  We  have  the  law  and 
everything  on  our  side.  We  can  send  for  James, 
and  perhaps,  Lyddie,"  she  said,  addressing  her, 
312 


THE    "RESERVE" 

"  thee  can  send  for  thy  husband  ;  the  hired  men 
will  do  whatever  we  want  them  to  do.  We  can 
barricade  the  house.  I'm  not  averse  to  a  little 
scrimmage  ;  the  whole  spiritualist  neighborhood 
will  be  up  in  arms  ;  the  Quakers  themselves  will 
be  on  our  side.  Thee  saw  the  man.  We  can 
have  detectives  and  track  up  the  lot.  Save  the 
paper  carefully ;  it  may  serve  some  purpose  in 
finding  out  these  demons.  What  are  law  and 
order  in  the  world  for,  I  wonder,  if  not  to  punish 
just  such  villains  as  these?  It  is  a  God-forsaken 
country,  I  acknowledge  that,  and  I  shouldn't 
mind  leaving  it  at  all ;  but  to  be  driven  out ! 
That  is  not  to  my  mind.  Somebody  must  be 
punished  for  this.  Thee  must  make  up  thy 
mind  and  quickly,  too.  Someone  ought  to  be 
sent  off  to  Tonganoxie  this  very  night  to  get 
help." 

But  Enoch  came  in  again  with  his  medita 
tions.  "Who  could  it  have  been,  and  how 
could  I  find  him  ?  They  went  away  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  Big  Stranger  neighborhood." 

"  Yes,"  Hannah  interrupted,  "  and  I  hope 
thee  is  not  going  to  try  to  find  them  there,  in 
that  den  of  wolves ;  the  very  country  is  wild 
and  barbarous  and  the  people  are  even  worse 
than  the  country.  I  hope  thee  won't  think  of 
going  over  there  to  try  to  find  another  Ted 
Blood's  child  sick  of  diphtheria,  and  nurse  thy 
self  into  his  father's  good  graces.  Such  a  cir- 
313 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

cuiustance  as  that  doesn't  happen  once  in  a 
thousand  years." 

"No," Enoch  said;  "but  when  it  does  happen 
it  shows  the  goodness  of  human  nature." 

"  Goodness  of  human  fiddlesticks,"  cried  Han 
nah.  "If  thee  won't  fight,  thee  must  run. 
There's  no  other  way,  and  Lyddie  and  I'll  pre 
pare  for  leaving  to-morrow." 

"  Hannah,"  Enoch  said  quietly,  "  don't  go  so 
rapidly  in  thy  thoughts.  There  are  many  pos 
sibilities.  I  would  rather  thee  would  not  speak 
further  about  the  matter  to-night.  Let  us  talk 
of  something  else.  Let  us  go  back  to  that  pleas 
ant  discourse  in  which  we  were  engaged  when 
we  were  interrupted.  We  want  to  hear  of  Lyd- 
die's  spiritual  experiences.  I  should  like  to 
learn  about  William  Price,  and  there  is  much 
we  might  tell  one  another  with  profit." 

And  so  he  brought  them  back  gradually  away 
from  the  letter  to  the  old  subject  and  got  them 
quieted  down.  There  was  no  immediate  dan 
ger,  and  pretty  soon  they  went  to  bed  and  slept 
peacefully  till  morning. 

In  the  morning  the  sun  rose  beautiful  and 
bright,  and  it  was  impossible  even  to  imagine 
the  dark  spirits  and  evil  passions,  the  gloom 
and  terror  that  had  prevailed  in  and  around 
that  house  the  night  before.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  that  sheet  of  paper,  they  might  have  thought 
it  only  a  horrid  nightmare,  a  too-vivid  dream. 
814 


THE   "RESERVE" 

There  had  been  something  very  real  about  that, 
however. 

In  Hannah  it  awakened  only  righteous  indig 
nation. 

"  I  never  cared  to  stay  in  this  country,"  she 
said.  "  I  never  wanted  to  come  here  ;  but,  if  I 
were  managing  things,  I  should  not  propose  to 
be  driven  out.  It's  just  the  same  with  the 
spiritualism  itself.  I  think  it  very  foolish  for 
Enoch  to  go  on  preaching  to  everybody,  but 
when  they  come  to  attempt  to  stop  him  by  main 
force,  then  at  once  I  want  to  teach  it  and  preach 
it  myself." 

Hannah  made  out  to  say  very  sensible 
things  in  spite  of  a  certain  amount  of  animosity 
contained  in  them. 

And  then  they  spent  a  large  part  of  the 
morning  in  conjectures  as  to  who  it  could  have 
been.  It  was  no  one  from  their  immediate 
neighborhood,  Enoch  felt  sure.  They  had 
come  from  the  Big  Stranger  district  most  like 
ly.  And  as  for  the  man  Enoch  had  seen  when 
he  opened  the  door,  he  was  not  able  to  place 
him  at  all.  He  had  a  certain  resemblance  to 
Jim  Dark,  but  then  he  had  about  as  close  a  re 
semblance  to  old  Sam  Reynolds.  It  is  impos 
sible  to  know  or  remember  a  man  seen  from  the 
back  by  a  mere  flash  of  light  and  some  distance 
away.  The  sound  of  the  horses'  feet  had  been 
heard  going  off  to  the  West,  that  was,  in  the 
315 


ENOCH  WILLOUGIIBY 

direction  of  the  Big  Stranger  district.  That 
was  the  opposite  direction  from  Tonganoxie 
where  the  Quaker  settlement  lay,  and  yet  Han 
nah  felt  sure  that  Abijah  "\Villetts  had  had  some 
thing  to  do  with  it. 

"  It's  as  much  on  account  of  what  I  said  to  him 
as  anything,"  she  thought.  But  Enoch  said, 
"  It  is  a  contest  between  truth  and  tradition." 

"It  is  a  contest  between  an  old  scoundrel 
who  is  afraid  of  being  found  out  and  the  peo 
ple  who  know  his  meanness !  "  cried  Hannah. 

In  this  she  may  have  been  right.  Abijah 
might  have  had  something  to  do  with  it,  but  it 
was  also  true  that  there  was  an  intense  hatred 
against  spiritualists  among  others  than  rascals. 
It  was  not  quite  so  intense  as  that  which  the 
Puritans  had  for  witches  possibly,  but  it  was 
not  far  from  it.  Within  the  range  of  Enoch 
Willoughby's  acquaintance,  he  was  in  no  dan 
ger  ;  he  was  so  excellent  a  man  that  he  might 
believe  what  he  pleased ;  people  said  little 
about  it.  They  paid  little  attention  to  his  be 
lief  or  his  teaching,  excusing  it  in  him  as  an 
eccentricity.  Outside  the  range  of  his  personal 
acquaintance  or  influence,  however,  people  said 
harsh  things  about  him.  They  said  that  nest 
of  spiritualists  ought  to  be  torn  up  and  scat 
tered  ;  they  said  it  would  injure  the  reputation 
of  the  country,  which  was  bad  enough  already, 
and  prevent  new  settlers  coming  in.  The  most 
316 


THE   "RESERVE" 

narrow  and  prejudiced  religious  bigotry  is  found 
generally  in  country  places,  out-of-the-way  dis 
tricts,  where  men  associate  but  little,  and  where, 
if  there  are  thoughts,  they  grow  up  like  solitary 
weeds,  stiff,  rank,  and  vigorous.  No  religious 
zealot  will  have  his  origin  in  society ;  it  will  re 
quire  the  solitude  of  the  cloister,  the  woods,  or 
the  desert  to  produce  him. 

In  the  Big  Stranger  district  there  were  peo 
ple  low  and  vile  enough  to  white-cap  a  man 
for  religious  belief.  We  may  be  sure  Abijah 
Willetts  was  too  shrewd  a  man  to  be  an  actual 
leader  in  such  a  thing.  He  was  altogether  a 
modern  rascal,  and  it  would  be  impossible  to 
find  any  cloven  hoofs  or  dragon's  tail  about 
him.  He  would  adhere  closely  to  the  letter  of 
the  law  and  always  be  safe.  If  he  dropped  a 
suggestion  of  any  kind,  it  would  never  be  such 
a  one  as  could  be  brought  up  against  him.  He 
might  say  in  the  hearing  of  a  man  like  Erode 
Stevens,  when  talking  about  that  "nest  of  spir 
itualists,"  that  "  it  was  a  pity  there  are  certain 
offences  the  law  cannot  reach,"  and  so  have  in 
directly  helped  on  the  event.  But  it  will  per 
haps  never  be  knoAvn  exactly  how  it  did  come 
about  that  the  organization,  already  in  existence 
a  long  time  for  other  purposes,  took  up  the  case 
of  the  spiritualists,  and  decided  to  act  upon  it, 
and  finally  sent  the  notice  as  we  have  seen. 


317 


XXVI 

A  DAY  ON   BIG   STRANGER. 

Now  Hannah  and  Lyddie  took  an  entirely 
different  course  in  this  matter  from  that  which 
Enoch  advised.  He  wanted  them  to  say  nothing : 
it  would  only  excite  harsh  feelings,  he  said,  and 
do  more  harm  then  good,  stir  up  the  neighbor 
hood  and  set  one  settlement  against  another. 

But  say  what  he  would,  Hannah  and  Lyddio 
that  day  sent  off  word  to  various  people,  while 
Enoch  was  thinking  of  ways  by  which  he  might 
solve  the  difficulty.  It  was  not  only  that,  but 
he  wanted  to  find  the  best  opportunity  to 
propagate  his  doctrine  and  to  do  good.  When 
minds  are  stirred  up  and  excited,  when  there  is 
something  going  on  of  weight  and  importance, 
then  is  the  time  they  can  best  be  caught  and 
held  and  instructed,  he  argued. 

Along  about  ten  o'clock  he  took  his  hat  and 
coat  and  prepared  to  go  out.  Hannah  asked  him 
where  he  was  going,  but  he  avoided  a  direct 
answer.  He  told  her  he  was  going  to  walk  out 
among  the  neighbors  a  little  and  see  if  he  might 
not  hear  something  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  got  away 
from  the  house,  he  took  his  course  directly  for 
318 


A   DAY   ON   BIG   STRANGER 

the  Big  Stranger  district.  He  could  not  help  it, 
or  thought  he  could  not.  He  walked  rapidly 
until  he  finally  came  in  among  those  clay  hills 
that  ran  down  into  the  Big  Stranger  bottoms. 
What  a  wild,  rough  country  it  was;  the  low 
lands  full  of  tall  sycamore  trees  with  little 
patches  of  clearing  cut  out  here  and  there,  and 
small  houses  built  at  the  edges  of  the  corn 
fields. 

"  The  people  are  poor,"  he  thought,  "  and 
must  live  wretched  lives.  What  can  they  have 
to  think  about  here  from  day  to  day,  from  sea 
son  to  season,  from  year  to  year?  If  they  can 
keep  body  and  soul  together  they  do  well.  And 
yet  these  are  the  very  people,  and  these  are  the 
very  places  from  which  great  truths  arise  and 
take  their  start  like  cyclones  across  the  great 
continent  of  life."  He  was  so  busy  with  the 
various  thoughts  that  arose  in  his  mind  at  the 
sight  of  this  new  and  poor  neighborhood  that  he 
almost  forgot  the  object  on  which  he  had  come. 

It  was  recalled  to  him  by  his  approaching 
one  of  the  little  houses.  When  he  went  up  to 
the  door  and  knocked,  two  large  fox-hounds 
came  from  back  of  the  house,  but  did  not  offer 
to  molest  him.  A  man  opened  the  door  and 
Enoch  Willoughby  went  in  and  sat  down. 

Now  it  was  that  he  did  what  I  consider  an 
extraordinary  thing,  and  yet  just  in  keeping 
with  the  man's  whole  character.  He  told  the 
319 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

whole  story  of  his  spiritualism  calmly  and  delib 
erately,  from  the  time  of  his  early  life  np  to  the 
present.  He  told  of  the  letter ;  said  he  had  no 
idea  from  whom  it  came,  but  that  he  had  no  in 
tention  of  going  away  and  leaving  the  country ; 
that  he  felt  the  senders  of  it  did  not  know  him, 
and  had  misjudged  him,  and  all  that  they  needed 
was  to  become  better  acquainted  with  him ;  that 
he  wanted  to  meet  and  talk  with  them,  and 
that  as  they  kept  themselves  in  concealment, 
there  was  no  other  way  but  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  whole  neighborhood  from  whom  he 
supposed  the  letter  had  originated.  His  great 
desire  was  to  meet  these  people  together.  He 
wanted  to  argue  with  them  and  converse  with 
them.  He  wished  they  would  allow  him  to  meet 
with  them  that  night,  and  talk  with  them.  He 
could  not  ask  this  man  if  he  belonged  to  the  or 
ganization,  nor  could  he  ask  him  to  send  him 
to  one  who  did,  but  he  could  and  did  ask  to  be 
directed  to  his  next  neighbor.  And  after  sitting 
and  talking  awhile  he  received  such  direction 
and  went  away. 

In  this  manner  he  spent  the  day  going  about 
from  house  to  house  in  the  Big  Stranger  dis 
trict  without  losing  a  touch  of  that  dignity  that 
naturally  belonged  to  him  when  he  was  himself, 
and  in  each  case  leaving  the  impression  of  a 
gentle  voice,  a  kindly  eye,  and  a  fatherly  face, 
which  it  was  very  difficult  for  these  people  to 
320 


A   DAY   ON   BIG    STRANGER 

connect  with  that  person  in  their  imaginations 
to  whom  they  had  given  the  opprobrious  name 
of  "  that  old  spiritualist." 

For  Enoch  Willoughby  that  was  a  day  never 
to  be  forgotten.  He  must  have  visited  some 
eight  or  ten  houses.  At  one  place  he  had  had 
his  dinner,  at  another  his  supper,  at  neither 
would  the  people  accept  any  pay.  But  at  no 
place  did  he  hear  a  word  about  any  whitecap 
organization,  or  about  anyone  who  belonged  to 
such  a  thing. 

He  had  thought  all  the  time,  "  It  is  not  likely 
that  they  will  invite  me  to  meet  them,  but  what 
I  have  done  will  do  good.  The  evil  in  the  world 
is  mostly  imaginary  and  the  way  to  overcome  it 
is  by  a  close  acquaintance  with  the  truth." 

It  had  already  grown  dark.  He  was  thinking 
as  he  walked  along  what  Hannah  and  Lyddie 
would  say  to  his  all-day's  absence  from  home, 
and  he  was  not  by  any  means  home  yet,  for  he 
had  but  just  passed  the  house  that  he  first  came 
to  in  the  morning. 

He  had  barely  passed  it  indeed  when  sud 
denly  a  man  with  his  face  masked  appeared  in 
the  road  before  him. 

"  Come  with  me,  old  man,"  the  stranger  said, 
"if  you  are  in  earnest  about  wanting  to  meet 
the  people  who  sent  you  that  letter,"  and  he 
turned  and  led  the  way  back  to  that  first  house. 
"You  will  find  no  one  here  except  the  men  of 
321 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

the  organization ;  the  family  that  lives  here  which 
you  saw  in  the  morning  are  away  from  home." 

When  they  reached  the  house  and  went  in, 
there  were  as  many  as  a  dozen  men  seated 
around  the  room,  all  with  their  faces  concealed. 
They  had  no  masks,  properly  speaking,  they 
had  only  a  piece  of  white  linen  or  cotton  cloth 
stretched  over  their  faces,  with  openings  for  the 
eyes  and  mouth.  They  kept  their  hats  on  their 
heads  and  remained  seated. 

Now  it  was  that  Enoch  Willoughby  found 
himself  in  the  hands  of  a  superior  power.  He 
was  not  a  preacher,  never  had  been ;  his  own 
reasoning  was  the  best  he  could  do  at  that,  and 
on  his  own  reasoning  also  he  had  very  little  reli 
ance.  But  he  had,  and  had  always  possessed, 
what  he  felt  was  a  singular  and  wonderful  power. 
He  determined  to  rely  upon  it  now ;  indeed  that 
was  the  very  basis  of  his  whole  theory.  These 
men  could  not  be  convinced  by  argument,  he 
thought,  and  perhaps  not  convinced  at  all,  but 
for  once  he  determined  to  trust  himself  and  his 
own  life  to  the  power  in  which  he  professed 
belief. 

"  I  am,"  he  said  aloud  to  them,  "  as  you  have 
called  me,  a  spiritualist.  That  is  I  believe  in 
the  existence  about  us  of  a  world  of  disembodied 
spirits  of  men  and  women  who  are  intelligences, 
alive  as  much  now  as  when  they  inhabited  this 
body.  I  purpose  first  to  show  you  that  this  is 
322 


A  DAY   ON   BIG   STRANGER 

true,  and  then,  after  you  believe  that,  I  intend 
to  show  you  how  this  knowledge  will  lead  you  to 
make  better  men  of  yourselves,  and  make  the 
world  and  everything  in  it  better.  I  do  not  know 
you,  not  one  of  you.  I  am  in  a  country  where  I 
have  never  been  before.  You  may  not  believe 
this,  but  not  one  of  you  will  say  that  he  has  ever 
seen  me  here  before  to-day.  I  have  never  to  my 
knowledge  met  one  of  you  without  his  face 
masked.  I  am  going  then  to  put  myself  in  the 
power  of  that  spiritual  world  in  which  I  have  be 
lief.  I  am  going  to  ask  those  spirits  that  sur 
round  you  and  me  to  tell  me  the  name  of  each 
man  here  present,  and  as  much  of  his  history  as 
they  may  think  it  best  to  give.  If  when  I  have 
gone  a  little  way  in  this,  any  one  does  not  care 
to  have  me  go  further,  he  will  feel  at  liberty  to 
retire.  After  I  begin  I  shall  not  be  responsible 
for  what  I  say  until  I  am  through.  If  I  trust 
myself  at  all  to  the  power  that  is  about  me,  I 
must  do  so  wholly.  Perhaps  even  now  there  are 
some  of  you  who  would  prefer  that  I  should  not 
go  on." 

Some  persons  were  heard  to  say  "Go  on." 
A  good  many  remained  silent. 

Enoch  arose.  He  stood  for  a  moment  and 
bowed  his  head ;  a  slight  tremor  passed  over 
him. 

"  We  cannot  command  the  heavens,"  he  be 
gan  ;  "  we  can  only  say  what  is  given  us  to  say 
323 


and  that  may  be  imperfectly  spoken  and  imper 
fectly  understood." 

Then  walking  directly  in  front  of  the  man  who 
had  met  him  and  brought  him  back,  he  stopped 
and  said  : 

"  Niles  Joseph,  do  you  not  remember  we  went 
swimming  one  Fourth  of  July  in  the  old  swim 
ming  hole,  and  in  diving  you  struck  your  nose 
on  a  stone  in  the  bottom,  and  your  nose  bears  a 
scar  from  it  on  the  left  side  to  this  day  ?  Have 
I  spoken  the  truth  ?  " 

For  some  time  the  man  did  not  reply.  Then 
he  said  slowly  and  distinctly  :  "  It  is  the  truth." 

"  Is  your  name  Niles  Joseph  ?  "  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby  asked. 

"  It  is,"  the  man  replied.  "  But  who  are  you 
that  say  you  went  swimming  with  me  ?  " 

For  a  moment  they  waited.  Then  Enoch  "Wil- 
loughby  replied :  "  It  is  the  spirit  of  your  cousin, 
John  Clemmons,  who  died  two  years  after  that 
time,  hurt  by  a  limb  falling  from  a  black  oak-tree. 
Is  this  correct  ?  "  And  again  the  man  acknowl 
edged  that  it  was  so. 

So  Enoch  passed  around  the  room,  on  the  way 
giving  the  name  of  each  man  and  in  each  case 
some  incident,  and  in  almost  every  case  name 
and  incident  were  acknowledged  as  correct. 

Not  in  every  case,  however,  for  we  are  not  ad 
vocating  a  doctrine  ;  we  are  simply  describing 
the  man.  When  he  had  passed  about  half  way 
324 


A  DAY  ON   BIG   STRANGER 

around  the  room,  two  men,  seated  near  the  door, 
got  up  and  went  out  before  he  came  to  them. 
As  they  did  so,  some  one  remarked,  "  They  are 
afraid  ;  they  have  too  many  secrets  in  their  past 
to  care  to  have  it  exposed  to  the  daylight." 

At  this  Enoch  "Willoughby  stopped. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  go  further,"  he  said,  "  and 
tax  to  its  utmost  the  powers  of  the  invisible 
world.  What  has  been  given  to  me  to-day  to  do, 
I  might  never  be  able  to  do  again,  for  I  have 
not  done  it  of  myself  ;  it  has  been  given  me  to 
do.  At  another  time  when  you  have  removed 
your  masks  and  at  another  place  when  I  can 
tell  you  the  meaning  of  these  things,  I  should 
like  to  meet  with  you  again.  I  must  return 
now.  I  should  like  to  have  you  come  and  con 
verse  with  me." 

Then  he  turned  and  went  out  of  the  room, 
unmolested,  without  further  incident,  and  so 
home. 

If  any  one  can  explain  this  thing,  he  can  do 
more  than  I  can.  If  any  one  requires  that  the 
writer  prove  the  possibility  of  its  happening  by 
bringing  forward  another  man  who  can  do  the 
same  things  over  and  over,  the  writer  must  ac 
knowledge  his  inability  to  satisfy  the  request. 
There  might  net  be  another  man  in  the  world 
who  could  have  done  it.  For  us  it  is  but  an 
incident  in  a  story,  and  we  may  believe  it  or 
let  it  alone. 

325 


ENOCH    WILLOUGIIBY 

Enoch  knew  too  much  of  the  scriptures  not 
to  know  that  Jesus  had  deprecated  this  use  of 
the  spirits.  He  only  felt  ashamed  that  he  had 
employed  them  for  what  might  be  considered 
his  own  advantage,  and  not  solely  for  the  ad 
vancement  of  a  doctrine.  But  in  spite  of  that 
there  came  the  great  sense  of  power,  of  a  great 
and  wonderful  world  about  him  that  was  assist 
ing  him  and  upholding  him.  It  may  have  been 
telepathy,  or  mind  reading,  or  a  lucky  accident, 
or  a  fortunate  guess  or  two,  or  whatever  other 
explanation ;  the  fact  remained  that  Enoch 
Willoughby  believed  it  to  be  a  touch  of  the 
spiritual  world,  a  gift  of  power  made  to  him  in 
his  difficulty.  He  was  elated  over  it  as  one 
might  be  over  the  discovery  of  a  new  continent. 
In  his  depth  of  gratitude,  he  said  over  and  over 
he  would  never  doubt  again,  he  would  never 
require  another  test,  he  would  never  again  hunt 
after  signs,  or  miracles,  or  omens;  come  what 
might,  he  would  go  on  henceforth  strong  and 
believing  to  the  end.  Then  he  hastened  his 
steps  in  order  the  sooner  to  reach  home  and 
recount  the  wonderful  experience. 

There  he  did  not  find  the  same  ready  belief 
he  had  hoped  for. 

"  It  was  all  guess  work,"  was  Hannah's  first 
remark.  "Don't  tell  me,"  she  said,  "  that  any 
one  can  do  such  things  as  that.  It  was  a  fool 
hardy  act,  and  rash  and  unheard  of."  Enoch  had 
326 


A   DAY   ON   BIG    STRANGER 

thrust  his  head  into  the  lion's  den,  and  this  time, 
wonderfully  enough,  come  out  safely,  but  let  him 
not  imagine  he'd  heard  the  last  of  it.  He  had 
whetted  the  appetite  of  these  people  for  tests, 
and  made  them  think  they  could  be  given  to  any 
extent.  "  They'll  be  about  now  soon  for  more, 
and  then  more  and  more  "  she  said ;  "  there  is 
no  end  to  this  thing  when  it  is  once  begun." 
Ah,  there  is  where  the  trouble  would  come  in. 

But  Enoch's  serenity  could  not  be  disturbed 
by  Hannah's  fears.  He  was  certainly  in  the 
arms  of  a  great  knowledge ;  it  would  no  longer 
do  to  call  it  hope.  He  was  sure,  certain,  fixed, 
unchangeable,  henceforth  and  forever. 

Lyddie  doubted  just  a  little.  Enoch  had 
been  around  among  these  people  all  that  day. 
Who  knows  what  he  might  have  heard,  what 
impressions  might  have  been  made  on  his  sub- 
consciousness.  Hannah  felt  too  that  because 
Enoch  could  not  become  a  speaker,  he  was  the 
more  proud  of  his  tests,  and  had  all  his  life  been 
looking  for  them  and  so  had  magnified  them  in 
this  case. 

But  they  were  both  glad  that  he  had  come  out 
of  it  safely,  and  they  hoped  that  now  the  matter 
would  end. 

It  was,  however,  only  beginning,  and  to  un 
derstand  its  continuation,  we  must  go  back  to 
the  room  where  Enoch  Willoughby  left  the 
whitecappers. 

327 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

The  mystical  mystifies,  but  never  satisfies, 
and  these  men  were  not  satisfied.  After  Enoch 
Willoughby  had  gone,  they  discussed  the  matter 
with  a  constantly  increasing  distrust  in  the 
miraculous  nature  of  the  performance,  and  a 
growing  fear  lest  they  had  been  tricked.  They 
began  to  think  the  fact  that  Enoch  Willoughby 
had  been  about  the  neighborhood  all  day  sus 
picious.  They  had  nearly  all  seen  him.  He 
had  heard  some  of  their  names  probably.  They 
wore  the  same  clothes  that  they  had  worn  when 
he  saw  them,  and  their  clothes  were  not  covered 
by  masks  as  their  faces  were.  It  was  hardly 
listened  to,  when  one  person  said  that  Enoch 
Willoughby  had  not  even  noticed  their  clothing, 
but  was  altogether  like  one  in  a  dream  while  he 
was  telling  their  names  and  those  other  circum 
stances.  Besides  not  all  of  the  names  were  cor 
rect,  and  the  circumstances  had  some  few  points 
about  them  that  were  uncertain.  Niles  Joseph 
said  he  did  not  strike  his  nose  on  a  stone  at  the 
bottom  of  the  swimming  hole,  but  on  one  that 
stuck  out  from  the  rocks  that  formed  the  bank. 

They  had  certainly  been  cheated.  One  man 
out  of  the  ten  or  twelve  was  convinced,  and 
would  take  no  further  part  in  the  proceedings ; 
and  have  nothing  further  to  do  with  harming 
Enoch  Willoughby.  Enoch  had  told  him  the 
the  truth,  a  truth  no  one  else  could  possibly 
have  known.  He  would  not  take  the  risk  of 
328 


A  DAY  ON  BIG  STRANGER 

making  a  world  of  spirits  angry,  and  he  then 
and  there  withdrew  from  the  organization.  He 
was,  however,  only  one  man.  In  the  others  the 
excitement  went  on  increasing,  and  the  feeling 
becoming  more  intense.  Why  had  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby  stopped  when  he  did  in  going  the 
rounds  of  the  circle  of  men? 

Probably  because  he  had  just  come  to  some 
he  knew  nothing  about.  And  yet  those  men 
were  the  very  ones  who  had  peculiar  experi 
ences  in  their  lives  that  might  have  made  good 
tests. 

"  What  if  he  had  told  you  what  happened  at 
the  cross  roads  at  the  time  of  that  insurance 
business  ?  " 

The  person  addressed  made  no  reply,  but  put 
his  hand  back  to  his  hip  pocket  significantly. 
One  can  see  what  kind  of  danger  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby  had  been  in.  Instead  of  freeing  him 
self  from  it,  as  he  thought,  he  had  in  reality 
increased  it  many  fold ;  for,  before  the  men  left 
the  place  where  they  had  met  with  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby,  they  had  decided  to  send  him  another 
threatening  letter ;  more  violent,  and  one  de 
termining  the  penalty  of  disobedience  and  fix 
ing  the  date  on  which  he  should  be  compelled 
to  leave  the  neighborhood. 


329 


XXVII 

THE  INCIDENT   OF   THE   CHILD 

THE  next  day  after  this  event,  the  Willough- 
bys  were  expecting  something  to  happen.  They 
did  not  know  what  it  would  be,  but  that  there 
would  be  something  they  felt  sure. 

There  was  a  kind  of  nervous  excitement  about 
the  whole  place,  which  Enoch  and  Lyddie  were 
calm  enough  to  control,  but  which  had  had  a 
bad  effect  on  Hannah ;  she  was  all  day  like  one 
beside  herself,  hardly  daring  to  speak,  because 
she  would  say  things  that  she  immediately  re 
pented  of,  and  yet  unable  to  keep  back  the 
thoughts  that  surged  in  her  mind,  or  the  words 
that  bubbled  forth  from  her  lips. 

They  were  thoughts  that  it  would  not  do  to 
express,  harsh  thoughts  about  religion  in  gen 
eral,  and  Christianity  in  particular ;  about  all 
dreamers  and  fanatics  and  religionists  of  every 
kind,  the  foolishness  of  martyrdom,  the  danger 
of  fixed  opinions,  the  necessity  of  fighting. 
Enoch  had  all  his  life  preached  non-resistance, 
a  most  absurd  and  ridiculous  opinion,  she 
thought.  It  was  no  use  for  Enoch  to  call  up 
the  action  of  Jesus  as  a  model  in  this  respect. 
330 


THE  INCIDENT  OF  THE  CHILD 

"  I  should  think  more  of  him,"  Hannah  said, 
"  if  he  had  boldly  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a 
band  of  those  old  Jews,  and  gone  to  work  and 
slashed  into  those  detestable  Pharisees  and  ma 
terialistic  Romans,  and  made  a  kingdom  for 
himself  on  the  earth  that  meant  something." 

"  Yes,  and  how  long  would  it  have  lasted  ?  " 
was  Enoch's  answer.  "It  would  never  have 
been  heard  of  after  a  dozen  years,  and  who 
would  there  ever  have  been  to  point  the  way  to 
the  great  hope  of  mankind  ?  " 

But  even  the  most  soothing,  calm  words  that 
Enoch  could  speak  would  only  start  her  going 
again.  They  all  saw  it  was  best  to  say  nothing 
to  her.  There  was  that  singular  look  about  her 
eyes  all  day.  She  said  it  was  the  spirit.  There 
was  just  a  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  Enoch  and 
Lyddie  that  it  was  to  be  feared,  that  it  bor 
dered  on  something  else.  "We  do  not  like  to 
speak  the  word,  as  Enoch  and  Lyddie  did  not 
like  to  speak  it. 

Hannah  had  cultivated  these  spells  ever  since 
she  had  given  herself  up  to  the  new  doctrine. 
It  had  begun  when  she  was  still  a  Quaker  and 
had  spoken  in  meeting.  There  was  a  power 
about  her  that  had  lifted  her  out  of  herself, 
which  she  said  was  spiritual  influence.  Enoch 
had  generally  thought  she  did  it  herself,  because 
it  had  been  so  difficult  for  him  to  speak,  and 
for  Hannah  it  had  been  so  easy  that  he  thought 
331 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

there  was  nothing  in  her  speaking.  But  now 
he  began  to  recall  the  various  times  she  had 
been  led  out  of  herself  to  act  like  one  mad  with 
the  fury  of  words.  He  noticed,  too,  there  was  a 
singular  look  about  her  eyes  at  times,  and  very 
strong  to-day.  He  believed,  too,  it  might  be 
spirits,  but  it  might  also  be — something  else. 
They  had  better  be  careful.  It  would  have  been 
better  if  he  had  not  shown  this  letter  and  had 
kept  Hannah  and  Lyddie  entirely  out  of  all 
knowledge  of  this  matter,  but  it  was  done  now, 
and  they  would  have  to  take  the  consequences. 

All  day  long  they  watched  the  roads,  Hannah 
especially,  for  they  expected  some  one  to  come ; 
if  not  some  one  with  another  threat,  then  some 
one  wanting  more  tests,  for  it  had  generally 
been  the  case  that  when  one  remarkable  thing 
was  done,  like  those  tests  Enoch  had  given  in 
the  Big  Stranger  district,  a  great  demand  would 
come  for  more.  And  so  this  day  passed  with 
that  constant  strain  upon  all  concerned. 

That  night  they  received  the  second  letter,  not 
so  coarse  and  brutal  as  the  first,  but  much  more 
to  be  feared. 

And  now  if  we  can  only  tell  slowly  and  calm 
ly  what  happened,  we  shall  do  well.  It  was  im 
possible  to  keep  the  knowledge  of  the  second 
letter  from  Hannah,  and  it  was  during  this  day 
that  she  did  that  dreadful  thing  that  brought 
the  shock  that  eventually  cured  her.  She  threw 
332 


THE  INCIDENT  OF  THE  CHILD 

the  child  into  the  well.  The  tale  has  been  told 
over  and  over  and  is  known  to  at  least  one  whole 
community.  To  many  it  did  not  seem  strange, 
for  they  said  that  Hannah  was  not  in  her  right 
mind.  Those  Quaker  women  especially  who 
came  to  visit  her  when  they  thought  she  was 
going  to  die,  and  before  whom  she  had  sprung 
from  her  bed  and  spoken  as  a  raging  bacchante, 
said  it  was  no  wonder,  that  they  had  seen  she 
was  beside  herself.  Abijah  Willetts,  too,  who 
had  had  some  experience  with  Hannah's  pas 
sion,  said  he  was  not  surprised  at  anything  the 
woman  might  do.  As  for  Hannah  herself,  her 
passion  gone,  her  "  influence "  departed,  her 
bacchantic  fury  subsided,  she  had  been  over 
whelmed  with  a  flood  of  repentance. 

"  Oh,  Lyddie,  Lyddie,"  she  had  said  over  and 
over  again,  "  /  did  not  do  it ;  believe  me,  I  did 
not  do  it.  It  was  an  evil  influence,  an  evil 
spirit,  come  upon  me.  It  was  not  myself,  and 
I  was  not  myself  when  I  did  it ;  how  could  it 
have  been  me  that  did  it  ?  "  And  then  she  fon 
dled  the  child — for  the  child  had  been  easily 
rescued — and  great  tears  rolled  down  her  face. 

"  O,  Lyddie,  I  will  never  forgive  myself.  If 
anything  had  happened  and  the  child  had  died 
— O,  I  had  rather  a  thousand  times  it  had  been 
myself."  She  declared  over  and  over  she  would 
never  have  anything  more  to  do  with  the 
"  influence." 

333 


ENOCH   WILLOUGIIBY 

Enoch  maintained  the  same  attitude. 

"Fie,  Hannah,"  he  said,  "thy  reasoning  is 
not  at  all  correct.  Because  one  spirit  is  bad  is 
no  reason  that  all  are  so.  We  must  try  the 
spirits;  hold  fast  to  that  which  is  good.  Do 
not  condemn  the  whole  matter  because  some 
thing  about  it  is  bad." 

But  Hannah  had  reached  a  determination ; 
her  conscience  was  aroused.  She  saw  that  for 
her  it  was  better  to  avoid  excitement.  She  put 
the  matter  of  the  threat  and  its  consequences 
calmly  from  her  mind.  She  was  very  solicitous 
about  Lyddie,  who  had  been  wet  through  and 
through  in  getting  the  child  from  the  well,  and 
who  just  at  that  time  had  need  to  take  care  of 
herself  physically. 

"  Enoch  has  got  himself  into  this  trouble," 
Hannah  said ;  "  and  I  think  he  will  have  to  get 
himself  out." 

But  oh !  the  horror  of  Lyddie's  mind  when 
she  saw  the  danger  her  child  had  been  in,  and 
thought  of  what  might  have  happened.  Was 
it  all  insanity?  She  thought  back  over  her 
whole  early  life,  those  first  years  when  she  was 
a  young  girl,  almost  a  woman  ;  she  remembered 
those  spiritual  meetings  at  the  Willoughbys, 
and  Enoch's  dreams  and  visions  and  how  Han 
nah  used  to  shudder  with  fear,  and  she  herself 
had  been  the  one  to  think  there  was  good  in 
them.  She  remembered  that  time  in  the  phi  in 

334 


THE  INCIDENT  OF  THE  CHILD 

thicket  when  she  had  been  seized  in  religious 
frenzy,  and  made  to  do  strange  things.  She 
remembered  the  second  time  William  Price 
came  to  the  house,  and  she  had  again  been 
seized  and  carried  away  beyond  herself.  She 
remembered  the  various  times  she  had  been 
under  an  influence  that  was  not  of  herself ;  and 
Lyddie  came  to  the  conclusion  that  God  is  in 
everything,  but  not  everything  is  God.  He 
could  use  even  a  touch  of  insanity,  than  which 
there  is  no  more  startling  thing  in  the  world,  to 
arouse  mankind  for  their  good ;  and  a  great  sigh 
of  relief  at  having  escaped  something  terrible 
passed  from  her  lips.  If  she  only  got  safely 
home,  got  back  with  the  child  to  her  home  and 
to  William  Price.  Ah  !  could  it  be  that  he  was 
right  after  all — that  they  were  all  crazy  ? 

Though  she  could  not  help  feeling  that  he 
was  narrow  and  prejudiced,  she  liked  the  sweet 
sanity  of  his  earthliness.  Dear,  good,  William 
Price,  would  it  be  possible  that  he  should  ever 
use  those  terms  when  speaking  of  her  ?  And 
then  immediately  she  thought  how  strange  a 
person  she  herself  was;  when  she  was  among 
people  who  talked  of  and  cared  for  the  things 
of  the  wroiid,  she  soon  conceived  a  dislike  for 
them  and  called  them  shallow  and  materialistic, 
and  felt  as  though  she  were  bound  in  a  prison 
of  flesh,  and  longed  to  burst  her  prison  and  fly 
away  ;  and  then  when  she  came  among  dreain- 
335 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

ers  and  spiritually  minded  people,  she  pretty 
soon  began  to  think  them  fools  to  their  own 
senses,  deceived  by  their  own  thoughts,  caught 
up  and  whirled  off  in  a  storm  of  their  own  mad 
fancies !  She  was  now  in  this  latter  extreme. 
She  wanted  to  go  back,  oh,  how  she  wanted  to 
go  home !  She  would  give  more  to-day  to  talk 
of  the  tongs  by  her  own  fireplace  than  of  all 
the  religions  in  the  world.  Oh,  if  her  husband 
were  only  here. 

She  lay  on  the  bed  with  the  child  beside  her, 
and  tears  trickled  down  her  cheeks,  while 
Hannah  sat  and  looked  at  her. 

"  Don't  cry,  Lyddie,"  said  Hannah ;  "  I  never 
did  it ;  O  Lyddie,  teU  me  that  I  did  not  do  it." 

"  I  am  certain  it  was  not  thee,  Hannah,'' 
Lyddie  said  ;  "  thee  never  could  have  had  the 
heart  to  do  it.  It  was  some  evil  spirit  that  caine 
over  thee." 

Then  Hannah  went  on  to  tell  how  it  was. 

"  I  had  felt  them  about  me  all  day,"  she  said  ; 
"  strange  thoughts  and  strange  fancies.  They 
seemed  to  come  like  vivid  pictures.  I  could 
hear  voices  and  see  actions  that  were  only 
within  my  inner  mind,  and  suddenly  the  tilings 
of  the  real  world  all  became  dim  and  indistinct. 
As  in  a  dream  or  vision,  I  saw  myself,  and  im 
mediately  everything  else  disappeared  from  be 
fore  me.  I  watched  myself  with  a  horrid  fas 
cination.  I  saw  myself  approach  the  child's 
336 


THE   INCIDENT  OF  THE  CHILD 

cradle  ;  I  saw  myself  bend  over  the  sleeping 
infant ;  I  saw  my  own  lips  move  and  heard 
them  utter  words  as  distinct  and  clear  as  if  they 
had  been  printed  openly  upon  the  lips  of  a  pict 
ure.  They  were  '  Little  Quaker,  little  Quaker,' 
and  I  could  hear  the  tone  of  my  own  voice  as  I 
spoke  them.  Then  that  phantom,  me,  picked 
the  child  up  gently  and  calmly  ;  it  turned,  it 
glanced  around  to  see  if  any  one  were  near ;  it 
thought  to  lay  the  child  back,  but  there  was  no 
cradle  before  it ;  the  door  was  open  and  there 
stood  the  well  outside.  The  phantom  smiled. 
It  was  a  nice  idea.  It  advanced  toward  the 
door,  and  then  came  the  shriek  that  aroused  me 
from  my  evil  vision  to  find,  O  horrible !  that  I 
had  all  through  been  following  the  actions  of  a 
phantom,  myself  a  blind,  unreasoning  imitator. 
But  luckily  it  turned  out  without  injury,  and 
perhaps  it  will  be  for  our  good." 


337 


XXVIII 

THE   MIRACLE 

Bur  Hannah  was  not  yet  through  with  the 
spirit.  It  had  still  a  purpose  to  perform.  It 
was  not  easy  for  one  who  once  yielded  to  its 
influence  to  withdraw  suddenly  from  it.  What 
ever  it  was,  the  habit  was  only  slowly  acquired 
and  slowly  discontinued.  We  are  believers  in 
the  existence  of  this  power  of  the  spirit  as 
Enoch  Willoughby  was,  but  by  no  means  do  we 
believe,  nor  did  Enoch  Willoughby,  that  it  was 
always  good.  That  there  is  something  in  it,  is 
as  sure  as  that  the  sun  will  shine  to-morrow,  and 
when  people  have  once  felt  it,  they  will  believe 
in  its  existence  forever.  They  may  believe  it  with 
fear  and  avoid  it,  or  they  may  believe  it  with 
love  and  reverence  it.  Its  influence  gives  to 
man  a  second  nature,  and  when  of  the  right  kind 
it  is,  we  believe,  the  greatest  power  on  earth  to 
uphold  the  sinking  spirit,  to  lead  men  out  of 
what  is  low  and  degrading  into  the  broad  light 
of  truth  and  purity.  We  believe  it  to  be  the 
basis  of  Christianity,  perhaps  of  all  religion. 
We  do  not  know  Avhat  it  is,  and  do  not  pretend 
to  know,  and  that  is  where  we  think  Enoch 
33s 


THE   MIRACLE 

Willougliby's  mistake  came  in.  He  thought 
that  he  knew  what  it  was,  and  his  explanation 
was  perhaps  as  reasonable  as  any,  but  hardly 
more  reasonable  than  some  others.  However 
this  might  be,  one  could  hardly  expect  a  body 
of  men  of  the  mental  calibre  of  those  inhabi 
tants  of  Big  Stranger  to  be  able  to  follow  the 
subtle  reasoning  of  Gamaliel  and  let  Enoch 
Willoughby  alone,  saying  if  what  he  had  in  him 
was  of  evil,  it  would  come  to  naught ;  if  it  was 
of  God,  it  would  prevail  and  they  ought  not 
then  to  be  fighting  against  God.  That  would 
have  been  the  reasoning  of  Shubal  Swain.  Now 
let  us  see  how  the  whitecappers  reasoned. 

The  first  effect  upon  them  had  been  to  bring 
doubt  and  confusion.  That  one  of  their  num 
ber  had  left  them  and  declared  he  would  not 
take  further  part  was  a  serious  matter.  The 
second  letter  had  been  sent  rather  hastily  and 
by  some  with  reluctance.  There  had  been 
something  wonderfully  mysterious  about  what 
Enoch  Willoughby  had  done.  Some  of  them 
were  undoubtedly  afraid  of  him.  It  was  noticed 
that  the  two  men  who  had  gotten  up  and  gone 
out  as  Enoch  Willoughby  approached  them  in 
his  test-giving,  were  now  urging  on  the  whip 
ping.  Some  said  these  two  men  were  afraid  of 
him,  and — they  said  it  under  their  breath- 
had  good  reason  to  be.  A  kind  of  faction  arose 
among  them,  a  good  deal  of  dispute  and  rough 
339 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

joking.  Those  who  had  incidents  named  from 
their  lives  had  the  worst  of  it,  and  naturally 
enough  did  not  like  it.  Why  did  not  the  man 
go  on  and  go  the  rounds  of  the  company ;  what 
was  fair  for  one  was  fair  for  all  ?  Then  he  might 
have  told  them  something  that  was  actually 
worth  believing. 

At  any  rate,  the  result  of  these  deliberations 
was  that  they  decided  to  go  to  the  house  again 
and  call  the  man  out.  They  would  inform  him 
they  were  not  satisfied  and  order  him  to  go  the 
rounds  of  the  company  and  tell  the  name  of  each 
masked  man  and  an  incident  from  his  life.  If  he 
did  this,  they  would  let  him  off ;  if  he  did  not, 
he  should  be  whipped  or  driven  out  of  the  com 
munity.  Even  those  whose  sympathies  had  been 
aroused  for  him  assented  to  this  plan,  for  they 
had  no  idea  but  if  he  could  tell  one  mysterious 
thing,  he  could  tell  another ;  and,  if  under  one 
condition,  why  not  under  any;  and  those  who 
had  no  sympathy  for  him  thought  he  had  been 
merely  tricking  them  and  this  would  enable 
them  to  catch  him  and  the  man  should  be  pun 
ished  for  it. 

Thus  it  was  that  they  came  again  and  called 
Enoch  Willoughby  out  of  the  house  and  no  one 
within  noticed  it.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
if  Lyddie  kept  careful  watch  over  the  child  and 
did  not  let  it  out  of  her  sight ;  and  Hannah  was 
so  occupied  in  thinking  of  the  awful  thing  she 
340 


THE  MIRACLE 

had  done,  and  what  it  might  have  resulted  in, 
that  she  did  not  notice  that  Enoch  had  been 
called  out.  Besides  the  time  had  not  been  fixed 
for  this  evening  in  the  letter. 

Outside  Enoch  Willoughby  was  led  to  a  cer 
tain  place  by  the  same  group  of  masked  men 
that  he  had  met  in  the  Big  Stranger  district ;  at 
any  rate  he  supposed  they  were  the  same. 

They  put  to  him  the  proposition  they  had  ar 
rived  at. 

"  Go  the  rounds  of  us,"  the  spokesman  said ; 
"  tell  the  name  and  an  incident  from  the  life  of 
each  man  ;  and,  if  you  hit  it  as  well  as  you  did 
before,  we'll  let  you  off;  if  you  don't  hit  it,  we'll 
let  things  go  as  you  received  notice  in  the  let 
ter  ;  that  is,  we'll  give  you  time  to  get  out  of  the 
country." 

Enoch  TVilloughby  had  not  yet  spoken.  He 
stood  there  before  the  group  silently.  He  im 
posed  a  little  of  his  own  dignity  upon  them.  His 
utter  absence  of  fear  in  this  dangerous  situation,^ 
his  absorption  in  his  own  thoughts,  than  which 
there  is  nothing  that  carries  greater  respect,  the 
fact  that  this  man  in  a  certain  way  claimed  con 
nection  with  an  invisible  world,  and  had  appar 
ently  given  proof  of  the  connection — all  these 
things  had  their  effect  upon  the  group  of  men. 
It  was  night  and  had  become  dark,  but  the  men 
had  with  them  a  number  of  lanterns ;  these  they 
set  down  together,  and  they  formed  a  little 
341 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

bunch  of  light  on  the  ground  around  which  the 
men  were  gathered  ;  and  by  which  everything 
could,  even  from  a  distance,  be  plainly  seen. 

Enoch  Willoughby  had  not  yet  spoken. 
Finally  he  asked :  "  What  will  be  the  penalty 
if  I  do  not  speak  at  all  ?" 

"Do  you  mean  to  refuse?"  the  spokesman 
asked. 

"I  should  prefer,"  Enoch  Willoughby  replied 
calmly,  "not  to  put  it  in  that  form.  I  would 
rather  say,  '  if  I  cannot  answer.' " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  '  if  you  cannot  an 
swer'?" 

"  If  you  will  have  a  few  moments'  patience,  I 
will  attempt  to  explain  to  you  what  I  mean." 

"  Well,  be  quick  about  it,  old  man,"  said  the 
spokesman  brutally. 

But  Enoch  was  entirely  unmoved  by  it  one 
way  or  the  other  and  slowly  and  calmly  began  : 

"  It  is  given  to  no  one  to  command  the  invisible 
world." 

"  What's  that  you're  giving  us,"  some  one  in 
terrupted.  But  Enoch  did  not  notice  the  inter 
ruption. 

"  And  whatever  is  done  through  it,  must  be 
done  by  it.  Before  now  it  has  happened  that 
great  things  have  come  to  men,  and  they  have 
then  thought  they  possessed  power  to  command 
the  elements,  that  they  possessed  the  key  to  all 
mysterious  knowledge,  only  to  find  that  what 
342 


THE  MIRACLE 

had  come  to  them  had  been  given  to  them,  that 
they  knew  little,  and  had  no  power  over  what 
they  did  know.  What  I  told  you  before,  I  did 
not  tell  you,  but  some  one  else  told  you  through 
me.  If  I  should  say,  I  can  tell  you  your  names 
and  your  past  lives  now,  it  would  be  false.  I 
can  tell  you  nothing,  and  yet,  it  may  be,  that  I 
can  tell  you  everything  you  ask." 

But  the  men  were  growing  impatient. 

"  What  is  that  you  are  telling  us,"  they  said ; 
"  you  can  and  you  can't ;  you  will,  and  you  won't ; 
you  told  us,  and  you  didn't."  They  thought  he 
was  trying  to  deceive  them.  "  Will  you  do  what 
we  ask,  or  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  what  is  given  me  to  do,  and  further 
than  that  I  can  say  or  do  nothing,"  Enoch  calmly 
replied,  and  then  stood  waiting.  He  had  bowed 
his  head,  and  was  silent.  The  effect  of  his 
appearance  and  presence  was  like  that  of  one 
praying. 

In  fact  he  was  praying.  He  was  saying  to 
himself,  "  why  should  '  they '  not  go  on,  and  com 
plete  the  circle  of  tests  ?  And  yet,  no  one  can 
know  why.  There  may  be  that  in  the  lives  of 
those  men  which  would  make  it  dangerous  for 
me  and  dangerous  for  them  if  it  were  exposed. 
With  what  depth  of  insight  the  Saviour  added 
to  his  prayer,  '  Thy  will  be  done  ?  ' ' 

And   then   again   he    attempted   to   explain. 
"  Every  act  of  your  lives,"  he  said,  "  is  known." 
343 


EXOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

"Tell  it  to  us,  then,"  they  said,  for  they 
thought  he  meant  known  to  him. 

"  And  no  doubt  could  be  told  to  you,"  he  went 
on,  not  noticing  the  interruption. 

"  Then  tell  it,  tell  it ! "  they  cried ;  "  don't  be 
afraid  of  the  worst  that  you  know." 

"  But  the  power  in  which  I  believe,"  he  con 
tinued  in  the  same  unmoved  manner,  "  and  the 
intelligence  in  which  I  trust  is  all  knowing  and 
all  seeing ;  and  besides  that,  it  is  all  loving ;  it 
cares  for  you  as  well  as  for  me ;  it  is  like  a  father 
of  many  children,  who  sees  one  in  danger,  but 
knows  if  he  rescues  the  one,  he  will  endanger 
the  many,  and  so  chooses  the  best,  which  may 
seem  to  the  one  child  the  worst,  act.  I  can  tell 
you  nothing.  I  can  promise  nothing.  I  have 
asked  that  it  might  be  given  me  to  speak  as  you 
wish,  but  it  has  not  been  given.  I  put  my  trust 
in  that  as  the  best  answer,  and  I  shall  no  longer 
attempt  to  say  or  do  anything.  I  am  in  your 
power.  Do  with  me  as  you  please ;  but  I  tell 
you  if  you  attempt  to  harm  me,  you  will  grieve 
a  world  of  spirits  about  you,  who  care  for  you  as 
father  or  mother,  brother  or  sister,  who  are 
higher  than  you,  and  better  than  you,  and  know 
everything  you  say  or  do,  or  even  think,  and 
will  remember  it." 

Then  they  seized  him,  for  they  hardly  heard  a 
word  of  all  he  had  been  saying,  and  had  grown 
very  impatient  at  it,  and  proceeded  to  take  off 
his  coat  and  lay  bare  his  back. 
344 


THE  MIRACLE 

"  You  need  an  argument,  old  man,  that  some 
one  can  understand  !  " 

Now  it  was  that  Enoch  Willoughby  was  in 
danger  of  real  martyrdom.  It  seemed  as  if  there 
was  no  way  to  save  him ;  the  men  were  aroused, 
angry.  There  was  no  one  about  the  place  to 
whom  he  could  look  for  help.  And  yet  the  in 
dignity  was  prevented  ; — not  in  any  such  mirac 
ulous  way  as  Enoch  Willoughby  was  perhaps 
half  expecting,  but  in  a  way  that  was  really  al 
most  as  miraculous. 

Some  little  time  after  Enoch  had  been  called 
out  of  the  house,  Hannah  had  missed  him,  and 
had  said  to  Lyddie,  "  Where  in  the  world  can 
Enoch  have  gone  this  time  of  night  and  why  can 
he  be  staying  away  so  long." 

She  saw  he  was  not  in  the  house,  and  began  to 
get  frightened.  The  whole  subject  of  that  threat 
ening  letter  came  back  to  her  mind  and  she 
was  becoming  very  greatly  aroused,  when  she 
chanced  to  see  a  light  through  the  window.  She 
went  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  She  saw 
clearly  the  group  of  masked  men,  standing 
around  the  lanterns ;  she  saw  Enoch  at  one  side ; 
she  could  perceive  that  they  were  talking ;  and 
she  knew  what  it  was  about.  Her  quick  imagina 
tion  was  ready  enough  to  give  her  the  whole  sub 
ject,  even  the  words  and  tones  of  their  conver 
sation. 

That  "  something  "  began  to  arise  in  Hannah, 

345 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

that  had  already  done  awful  things.  The 
"  power  "  was  coming  back  on  her.  She  could 
feel  it  about  her  eyes  and  in  her  breast.  She  was 
almost  ready  to  shout  aloud.  She  had  said  it 
should  never  come  upon  her  again  ;  but  she  knew 
when  she  said  this  she  was  not  master  over  it 
to  call  it  or  keep  it  away. 

Suddenly  she  saw  them  lay  hold  upon  him. 
Then  it  was  to  her  as  if  the  powers  of  heaven 
had  been  let  loose  upon  her,  as  if  a  flood  had 
enveloped  her.  She  gave  one  cry,  that  quick, 
sharp  cry  that  is  part  shriek,  part  laughter ;  but, 
whatever  composed  of,  is  awful,  terrible ;  and 
then  she  opened  the  door,  and  walked  out.  There 
is  something  fearful  in  insanity,  and  this  relig 
ious  frenzy  had  much  the  same  effect.  When 
Hannah  came  walking  up  to  these  men,  under 
this  power  as  she  was,  they  saw  it.  She  was 
talking  a  strange  language,  intermingled  with 
those  singular  shouts  that  always  remind  one 
in  their  effect,  of  the  bellow  of  a  creature  that 
has  scented  blood  and  at  whose  call  the  herd  of 
kine  rush  up,  pawing  the  earth,  bawling,  furious. 

Without  an  intelligible  word,  she  walked  into 
the  crowd  of  men,  who  gave  way  before  her 
strange  and  unearthly  appearance,  fascinated  by 
the  sight ;  and,  before  they  were  aware  what 
she  was  going  to  do  or  say,  she  had  seized  the 
cloth  mask  of  the  nearest  man,  torn  it  from  his 
face,  and  tossed  it  upon  the  ground. 

346 


THE  MIRACLE 

Then  she  proceeded  to  speak. 

It  was  not  so  much,  perhaps,  what  she  said 
that  affected  them,  for  half  the  time  one  could 
not  understand  a  word  of  her  strange  babble, 
but  it  was  the  frenzy  of  her  voice,  the  strange 
light  in  her  eyes.  Hannah,  undoubtedly,  had 
that  something  about  her  that  people  have  long 
tried  in  vain  to  explain.  She  had  another  self, 
another  personality  that  came  over  her  with 
great  power.  She  said  it  was  a  spirit.  We 
know  it  came  near  being  the  death  of  her  little 
nephew,  and  so  it  could  hardly  have  been  all 
good;  and  yet  at  this  time,  it  as  effectually 
stopped  the  proceedings  against  Enoch  Wil- 
loughby  as  it  had  driven  Abijah  Willetts  out  of 
the  house  like  a  whipped  cur  that  time  he  had 
come  with  the  committee. 

"  Now  go  on  your  way,"  she  shouted  at  last, 
her  speech  becoming  intelligible  "  or  I  will  tear 
the  hypocritical  masks  from  every  one  of  your 
cowardly  faces.  And  as  for  thee,  Enoch,  get  up, 
and  come  to  the  house.  I  should  like  to  see  any 
one  so  much  as  make  a  motion  to  touch  thee  !  " 

She  walked  across  to  where  he  stood. 

"  Put  thy  coat  on,  or  thee'll  take  cold  !  " 

That  was  finally  what  she  said,  and  these 
common-place  words  were  powerful  as  though 
they  had  been  shrieks  and  cries  of  terror,  for 
the  spirit  spoke  through  every  one  of  them,  and 
thrilled  the  hearer  to  the  back-bone. 
347 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

Thus  the  miracle  of  leading  Enoch  Willoughby 
away  without  hinderauce  from  among  those  men 
was  performed,  and  that  was  the  last  that  was 
ever  heard  of  any  whitecapping  attempts  by 
them. 

They  were  cowed  and  driven  away,  not  so 
much  by  the  fact  of  a  woman  speaking  to  them 
as  by  the  fact  that  there  was  something  strange 
in  Hannah's  speaking.  They  saw  something  in 
her  that  was  more  than  ordinary,  more  than  nat 
ural  ;  and  there  are  thousands  and  even  hun 
dreds  of  thousands  of  men  to  this  day  who  have 
seen  the  same  thing  in  women  and  in  men  too, 
who  hesitate  to  call  it  insanity,  and  who  satisfy 
themselves  for  a  name  by  saying  simply,  "  There 
is  something  in  it."  So  these  men  said,  "  there 
is  something  in  it."  Some  of  them  had  been 
convinced  by  Enoch's  tests  and  some  of  them 
by  Hannah's  "  influence."  In  some  way  they 
felt  rebuked  and  shamed  ;  they  had  really  no 
cause  against  the  family ;  their  party  was  al 
ready  divided,  and  they  gave  the  matter  up  en 
tirely.  Indeed  Big  Stranger  district  eventually 
became  one  of  the  greatest  spiritualist  neigh 
borhoods  in  that  region. 

But  now  we  must  consider  what  became  of 
Hannah  when  she  returned  to  the  house.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  the  "  influence  "  left  her, 
so  long,  in  fact,  that  Enoch  and  Lyddie  began 
to  be  afraid  that  she  would  never  come  out  of 

348 


THE   MIEACLE 

it.  It  was  very  late  at  night  before  she  went  to 
sleep,  and  she  was  not  herself  all  that  time,  and 
continued  talking  in  broken  utterances  with 
little  or  no  meaning.  Lyddie  and  Enoch 
thought  she  would  sleep  it  off,  but  for  a  long 
time  it  seemed  as  if  she  would  not  go  to 
sleep. 

Along  toward  morning,  however,  she  fell  into 
slumber,  and  from  that  on  she  lay  as  though  she 
would  not  waken  again,  and  slept  till  long  past 
noon  of  the  next  day.  When  she  awoke,  she  was 
herself,  and  when  they  told  her  of  what  she  had 
done,  she  herself  knew  most  of  it,  for  the  orig 
inal  self  had  not  become  entirely  unconscious, 
but  she  began  to  be  more  and  more  afraid  of  the 
"influence."  They  told  her  how  long  she  had 
continued  the  strange  unintelligible  talking 
after  she  came  into  the  house.  She  began  to 
think,  "  what  if  it  should  never  leave  me,"  and 
again  and  again  she  thought  of  Lyddie's  child. 
One  must  not  play  with  fire,  and  there  seemed 
to  her  to  be  something  more  dangerous  than  fire 
in  this  awful  thing. 

Never  after  that  night  did  Enoch  tell  her  "  she 
did  it  herself,"  and  she  saw,  as  he  told  her,  that 
it  was  better  the  inspiration  should  always  have 
before  itself  the  example  of  a  good  and  gentle 
character  so  that  one  might  not  be  led  astray  by 
the  sudden  caprice  of  an  irresponsible  fancy  to 
do  harmful  acts.  They  had  little  fear  of  any- 
349 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

thing  further  taking  place  from  the  Big  Stranger 
district.  The  way  had  been  opened  for  a  relig 
ious  discussion  that  went  to  the  bottom  of  things, 
and  Lyddie  completed  her  visit  in  peace,  and 
enjoyed  it. 

But  she  knew  that  for  these  people  religion 
was  something  different  from  what  it  was  to 
most.  They  had  worked  out  a  kind  of  primitive 
religion  for  themselves.  It  had  little  of  tradition 
about  it,  almost  nothing  of  authority.  She  knew 
they  would  abide  by  it  always,  and  she  felt  that 
for  them  it  was  hardly  worth  while  that  they 
should  continue  the  pretence  of  remaining  with 
the  old  church.  She  felt  that  Enoch  Willoughby 
was  of  the  material  of  which  martyrs  are  made. 
But  there  are  worse  martyrdoms  than  whippings, 
or  even  tortures  at  the  stake ;  the  martyrdom  of 
accepted  unpopularity,  of  separation  from  church 
and  friends,  the  martyrdom  of  family  deprecia 
tion,  if  not  even  hatred,  the  martyrdom  of  grad 
ual  retirement  into  self  through  the  contact  with 
misapplied  coolness.  She  saw  all  these  in  store 
for  Enoch  Willoughby,  and  that  they  were  in 
evitable  for  him  since  his  spirituality  was  of 
that  Pauline  kind,  distinct,  clear,  vivid,  never 
to  be  forgotten,  or  even  mistaken.  And  Han 
nah,  too,  must  suffer  the  same  kind  of  martyr 
dom,  because  she  was  a  follower  of  his.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  that,  her  religious  frenzy  would 
have  suited  one  church  as  well  as  another.  Lyd- 

350 


THE   MIRACLE 

die  looked  over  the  prospects  for  their  future  in 
this  new  country,  and  she  thought  she  saw  more 
hope  for  their  happiness  and  their  usefulness  if 
they  broke  with  the  old,  and  went  zealously  to 
work  to  build  up  the  new,  and  she  advised  them 
to  do  this.  Lyddie's  opinions  and  advice  had 
come  to  have  great  weight. 

"As  for  myself,"  she  told  them,  "I  shall  re 
main  as  I  have  always  been.  I  shall  go  with 
my  husband's  church  and  remain  there,  but  I 
shall  always  have  sympathy  for  you,  and  you 
must  never  forget  that  I  am  still  with  the  church 
from  which  you  have  broken  away,  and  we  can 
make  a  few  concessions  as  you  can  make  a  few. 
Thee,  Hannah,  need  not  call  us  all  '  bigoted 
Christians '  any  more  than  we  need  say  you  are 
all  '  sorcerers  and  necromancers.' " 

Then  William  Olney  came  down  and  finished 
his  visit,  and  took  Lyddie  back  with  him,  and 
life  went  on  with  the  two  families  in  much  the 
same  way.  Old  William  Price  was  never  recon 
ciled  with  his  daughter-in-law.  I  verily  believe 
if  he  had  been  on  his  death-bed,  and  she  had 
importuned  him  for  a  friendly  look,  with  the 
strength  of  his  last  breath  he  would  have  turned 
away  his  head  from  her.  Even  that  little  house 
in  Hesper  and  the  small  farm  near  the  village, 
he  made  over  to  his  daughter  also  before  he 
died,  although  his  daughter  had  not  seen  him 
for  years,  had  not  helped  him  iu  any  way,  or  in 
351 


ENOCH   WILLOUGHBY 

any  way  been  like  a  daughter  to  him.     It  re 
mained  the  one  great  disappointment  of  Lyd- 
die's  life  that  the  old  gentleman  could  not  have 
been  reconciled,    but  such  is  life ;  we  cannot 
help  it,  and  cannot  make  men  over  again. 


852 


XXIX 

CONCLUSION 

THE  trouble  in  the  Big  Stranger  district,  just 
as  before  in  Iowa,  led  to  a  great  extension  of 
the  doctrine.  Opposition  is  almost  the  only 
nourishment  required  for  the  growth  of  a  new 
teaching.  We  are  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
only  thing  that  prevented  Enoch  Willoughby 
from  becoming  a  new  prophet  and  founder  of  a 
religion,  a  Mahomet  or  Brigham  Young,  was 
lack  of  sufficient  opposition.  If  the  threats 
against  him  had  been  carried  out,  and  he  had 
been  actually  beaten  to  death  without  flinching 
or  recantation — as  might  easily  have  been  the 
case — if  things  had  gone  a  little  further,  he 
would  have  stood  a  fair  chance  of  becoming 
famous  and  possibly  immortal.  As  it  was,  his 
following  increased,  the  spiritual  meetings  be 
came  more  and  more  largely  attended.  And  all 
this  time  that  investigating  committee  had  been 
hanging  fire,  if  one  might  be  allowed  this  ex 
pression.  And  why  not  ?  A  heresy  trial  may 
be  pathetic,  but  in  these  days  it  can  hardly  be 
tragical ;  and  they  none  of  them  go  off  like  a 
court-martial,  but  seem  to  drag  their  weary 
353 


ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

length  through  whole  volumes  of  proceedings. 
This  one  was  now,  however,  soon  to  come  to  an 
end.  In  some  way  or  other  the  Quakers  heard 
of  that  old  performance  of  Enoch  Willoughby's 
years  ago,  when  he  thought  and  said  he  had 
been  "  influenced  "  by  the  spirit  of  Jesus  of  Naz 
areth.  Of  course,  consistently  with  his  belief, 
he  did  not  mean  merely  that  he  had  taken  the 
teachings  of  Jesus  as  a  guide,  or  any  such  mod 
ern  or  common-sense  interpretation  of  the  words 
as  that,  he  meant  just  what  he  said  ;  and,  though 
he  would  gladly  have  kept  it  quiet,  for  he  rev 
erenced  truly  in  his  way,  I  honestly  believe,  the 
name  and  character  of  Jesus,  and  felt  in  a  cer 
tain  manner  the  incongruity,  if  that  is  the  word 
to  express  his  feeling,  of  such  influence  ;  that  is, 
he  was  really  humble,  and  felt  and  knew  the 
disparity  between  the  man  and  the  spirit  in  this 
case,  yet  when  it  was  done,  and  came  out,  and 
became  known,  and  the  Quakers  brought  it  up 
against  him  and  made  it  one  of  the  charges, 
then  came  up  that  whole  feeling  of  opposition 
again. 

As  mildly  as  possible  he  put  it  to  the  com 
mittee  :  "  Why,  the  Apostle  Paul  said  the  same 
thing — not  in  any  way  to  compare  myself  and 
my  experiences  to  the  Apostle  Paul  and  to  his 
wonderful  insight  and  experiences — but  thee 
must  remember  he  even  attributed  so  little  a 
thing  as  his  being  turned  aside  from  going  into 
354 


CONCLUSION 

Mysia  to  an  intimation  from  the  spirit  of  Jesus." 
Then  he  referred  them  to  Acts  xvii.,  but  you 
cannot  put  a  thing  like  that  in  mild  enough  lan 
guage  to  prevent  giving  offence. 

"  The  old,  blaspheming  wretch,"  they  thought, 
"  does  he  think  the  spirit  of  Jesus  has  nothing 
better  to  do  than  to  come  about  influencing 
him  ?  "  People  shuddered  when  they  heard  it. 
Of  course,  when  Paul's  name  is  connected  with 
such  a  circumstance  it  is  different,  for  we  hear 
the  sound  through  an  intervening  wall  of  tradi 
tion,  history,  poetry,  and  it  is  so  deadened,  and 
we  are  so  deafened  at  most,  that  we  only  half 
catch  the  meaning.  And  so  they  urged  that  he 
be  turned  out  of  the  meeting,  but  many  of  them 
were  still  kindly  disposed  to  him  on  account  of 
his  good  character,  and  thought  it  would  be 
better  for  him  to  resign  and  withdraw  volunta 
rily. 

That  was  also  Hannah's  opinion,  but  Enoch 
Willoughby  said,  "  No,  their  action  shall  stand 
as  a  testimony  against  them,"  and  he  went  on 
arguing  and  quoting  Scripture  until  they  be 
came  tired  of  it,  and  we  might  say  tired  out, 
when  they  formally  expelled  him  and  erased 
his  name  from  the  book  of  church  membership  ; 
and  the  day  on  which  that  occurred  Enoch  Wil 
loughby  looked  back  upon  with  a  kind  of  sad 
pride,  and  immediately  after  it  became  better 
friends  than  ever  with  all  the  old  Quakers  of  the 

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ENOCH    WILLOUGHBY 

neighborhood  and  tried  now  more  industriously 
than  ever  to  convert  them  to  spiritualism.  They 
lost  much  of  the  harsh  feeling  against  him  as 
soon  as  he  was  out  of  the  church,  for  there  is 
nothing  like  standing  squarely  on  an  open  plat 
form  of  opinion. 

And  now  what  remains  for  such  a  character  ? 
Life  remains,  and  a  fairly  full,  rich  life  after 
all.  The  Reserve  prospered,  land  became  valu 
able  ;  Enoch  Willoughby  had  much  of  it.  While 
not  wealthy,  he  became  well-to-do.  The  house 
was  enlarged  and  improved  and  filled  with  books. 
Gradually  the  man  worked  his  way  up  step  by 
step,  from  theory  to  theory,  until  he  became 
quite  an  authority  on  things  spiritual  wherever 
found.  His  test-giving  was  mostly  discontin 
ued,  but  hope  for  him  kept  right  on.  His  be 
lief  was  so  strong  that  it  sometimes  ran  the  risk 
of  being  offensive.  He  would  not  allow  any 
one,  unchallenged,  to  speak  of  the  beyond  as 
"  that  bourne  from  whence  no  traveller  returns," 
or  to  say  of  it  "  that  we  cannot  know." 

"  We  can  know,"  he  would  say,  and  "  travel 
lers  do  return  from  that  bourne,"  and  then,  if 
you  were  not  careful,  you  would  get  a  repetition 
of  the  corn-crib  vision. 

He  was  a  most  singular  old  gentleman,  was 
Enoch  Willoughby,  the  oddest  one,  perhaps,  of 
all  the  Willoughbys  that  came  West. 


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